Hell

What am I supposed to do. What am I supposed to feel. How am I supposed to be okay with all of this, walking around like the sun is still out. I don't work that way. Trust me, I wish i did. That way I could mend these broken bones, this never ceasing pain. Every time the wounds close, Salt is poured and holes appear anew. This is hell. This is the true definition of can't. This is the one thing that is uncontrollable. It can be the best thing and the worse thing to cross your path. It has the ups and downs of a road where your stomach reaches your ears. It can offer you it's hand and then take your knees out from under you with the other. It's called life and it is a bitch. The moment you accept and move on from that fact is the moment you lose your soul.