.

i could’ve swear i didn’t care. i swore it did not get onto me.

but it lingered. chants of curse, the fear, it consumes.

every time it chants, flash of images showing. how my life would end; a trailer.

it would play in your head a thousand times and a thousand times more.

it won’t stop.

i swear on it that it won’t haunt. but every single night, those are my thoughts.

how can i feel so inferior with something - ages ago - i would never think at all?

it took my nights and my days and i locked up myself, not a single sun shine to ray.

how and how is what i asked. "no," and "go," is what i get.

it won’t stop.

voices. a word. it took form as motivation then mutates to fear.

a fear that is covered in false hope, as an act of one’s justifying self.

me. the wreck of all wrecks.

what i am and how I feel; a failure.

the thoughts consumes. when i started it would automatically resumes.

i can’t stop.