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Literature Text
And maybe that was all it was
But when I grow so weary my eyes refuse to open,
And when I hear those cathedral bells,
Honouring the passing of hours
In a way that clocks never seem to manage,
Well, that is when I remember,
When I allow a few tears
To leak from that sealed up well within me.
That is when I allow a few moments of pain,
A few moments of heartache
For everything that it was,
For everything that is stole,
And for everthing it continues to be.
Because sometimes a shadow is all we know
And sometimes it just clings to our feet.
But when I grow so weary my eyes refuse to open,
And when I hear those cathedral bells,
Honouring the passing of hours
In a way that clocks never seem to manage,
Well, that is when I remember,
When I allow a few tears
To leak from that sealed up well within me.
That is when I allow a few moments of pain,
A few moments of heartache
For everything that it was,
For everything that is stole,
And for everthing it continues to be.
Because sometimes a shadow is all we know
And sometimes it just clings to our feet.
![[self-righteous suicide]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/cbcf3ffb-cc87-44d3-ae1a-800ab28eacb1/d68fpz3-8c645fbe-bf18-4cd6-8304-b7c6865d5967.jpg/v1/crop/w_184,h_184,x_0,y_17,scl_0.073248407643312,q_70,strp/_self_righteous_suicide__by_zephy0_d68fpz3-92s-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTI0MiIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2NiY2YzZmZiLWNjODctNDRkMy1hZTFhLTgwMGFiMjhlYWNiMVwvZDY4ZnB6My04YzY0NWZiZS1iZjE4LTRjZDYtODMwNC1iN2M2ODY1ZDU5NjcuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTkwMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.uabrXptjVrBGH2PzDw8QRAnQwYw1sXvTlRl-xeYHpY4)
![[self-righteous suicide]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/cbcf3ffb-cc87-44d3-ae1a-800ab28eacb1/d68fpz3-8c645fbe-bf18-4cd6-8304-b7c6865d5967.jpg/v1/crop/w_92,h_92,x_0,y_9,scl_0.036624203821656,q_70,strp/_self_righteous_suicide__by_zephy0_d68fpz3-92s.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTI0MiIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2NiY2YzZmZiLWNjODctNDRkMy1hZTFhLTgwMGFiMjhlYWNiMVwvZDY4ZnB6My04YzY0NWZiZS1iZjE4LTRjZDYtODMwNC1iN2M2ODY1ZDU5NjcuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTkwMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.uabrXptjVrBGH2PzDw8QRAnQwYw1sXvTlRl-xeYHpY4)
I think I'm beginning to get better, in the sense that I can now see how much better I am. But I'm not there yet and sometimes I need to acknowledge that yes, it was just as bad as I remember, worse in fact as I don't remember the summer that it got really bad.
But other times, well, other times I forget that it even happened, and I think that's healthy even if I still need to step outside of my own head sometimes.
But other times, well, other times I forget that it even happened, and I think that's healthy even if I still need to step outside of my own head sometimes.
Comments1
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well written and deeply moving