Like the monotonous black of a midnight sky; split by a blade of murderous lightening, Like the daunting silence of a shadowy forest; broken by the howl of a hunting wolf, Like a never-ending insomnious night; scattered with haunting, vicious nightmares, Like years of hiding, fearing the worst; finally ended by ‘the worst’ coming true, Like an endless summer of an eternal drought; dying into a cruel flood. The pain inside, The aching within, And all you want is for it to stop, But not all relief is good, Not all relief is worth it. Like a day of self-hate and loneliness and shame; until at last the sting of a razor blade. Not all relief is good, Not all relief is worth it.