My Dark Tunnel

I never knew what it felt like to live in a dark tunnel until I lived it myself.

I spent a huge part of my twenties living in the dark tunnel that I created for myself. Allowing it to swallow and swallow me up,

I think about it a lot, the things I wrote in my death logbook, would I have gone through with it, if I did, would my loss be felt? Would people regret the way they made me feel?

Would my mother feel guilty? What would have happened if it went as I planned?

My unbridled thoughts of those days, I still can’t pen them down, too afraid to speak them or write them.

But just like every dark tunnel, there is light at the end of it, no matter how dark and gruesome the tunnel is, there is always a ray of light at the end.