It’s a sickness of the spirit, an inevitable evil. Taking over, clawing at my insides. Climbing out.

I’ve fought it for so long, thinking I could push it down so far that nobody would be able to sense it. Stamp it out so only I was aware of the invisible infliction spreading silently through my thoughts.

But it keeps building, and the evil must be satisfied.

I don’t want to fight anymore.
It will win.