Tempest

It's a miserable existence to dance among one's fears, spinning, round and round, swooping, swirling, pouncing, clawing, yet never touching, for to touch my fear would be the end of me.
The end of my fantasy.

My eyes dilate. My arms twist as damp fibrous sinews.
I reach and I claw. My foot is trapped.
I have to sing the song of death.
I'll have to burn the frays.

"How can anybody live in a world so cruel and beautiful?" - Attack on Titan - Beautiful, Cruel World

In the swirling tempest of emotions, one's head becomes a milkshake. One's heart, a gaping rift. Cracks in the sidewalk.  Grand Canyon of the ant world.

If I'm just short of seventeen years into my expanse of existence, I don't know how I will continue. Eighty more is out of the question.
Sixteen years, and I'm already tired, size, tortured, sullen, scarred.

I'm in a snowglobe.
Why did You put me here?
Why me? What purpose do you have?
I don't see a thing worth fighting for.
I'm so empty and dry.
I don't know what to do.

If I wake up tomorrow, I'll try again.
If not, F*ck this sin-pit.
I'm done.