It is like a distant yet distinct exit sign, the bright red light piercing through your eyes into the inner recesses of your mind, letting you know there is a way out... but you don't exactly want to make the effort to leave. You always have the option of walking down the steps and opening that door to a whole new realm, but the thought of it is both slightly disorientating and terrifying.
You can't seem to find beauty in life anymore- in living. Everything is black and white and all of the incandescent colors have faded. The background of your existence makes you want to switch off the light so you don't have to look at it anymore and observe the scratch marks placed sporadically across the surface of the personal mural that is everything you are and have done.
I know what it's like to stand in the middle of the kitchen at 3 p.m. in the afternoon, and to just stare with a numbness inside of you at an open drawer of knives, trying to decide which one will end it all the quickest. I know what it's like to beat yourself up and to wrap your fingers around your neck, wondering how much longer the oxygen will refuse to stop passing through and out of your lungs to keep your glass heart from breaking. And I know what it's like to walk back and forth on the boundary line that separates idealism from realism, making you wonder what is worth believing in.
If anything, you are. You are worth believing in yourself, because you truly are more beautiful and more wonderful and more extraordinary and more worth it than you could ever fathom in your life time.
So, please, don't measure your chronology by determining the hour it should be cut.
You. Are. Worth. The. Fight.
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