Volcano

I can’t do this. Not anymore. My brain is exploding—erupting like a volcano, emotions oozing out—magma hot. Frustrated, overwhelmed, and soul-crushingly sad (so simple yet so deep: the inevitable fall, the setting sun)—I am lost in the nonsense of it all. I am so afraid of being hated by the people I love. I am so afraid of being loved by the people I hate.

I don’t want to spend my last days on earth like this, but I have to. I have no choice.