My little helper is wearing thin, now the visceral feeling, what I dread will begin.
There's no way to explain the hatred I feel within, but the gods deemed it Worthy so this River I must swim.
I can't tell you how many times I've said to myself I can't take this anymore, and many times I've moved to the door, but I'm stubborn and i won't move anymore, exhaustion overcomes me,
And I fall to the floor.
To wake up the next day to the feeling once more.
©pollock_75
©James Stan
J