October 04, 2023

Dear Diary, 

In my suffering there are no flowers, when the pain comes it doesn't splash onto a canvas. There's no music in the sound of my screaming, no fine marble sculpture molded by my scarred hands, no meaningful words written by my empty soul. In the darkness I can't conjure mesmerizing landscapes, and in the sun, the light doesn't reveal any magic. 

My soul burns, it aches, it claws at the walls of its prison. 

Desperately, C