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I don't want to be calm.
Don't tell me to take a breath.

I want to wage war with my demons.

Loudly, angrily, with the force of my darkest days,
until I am broken-winded and collapsing. 

I want to scream into the void, hoping that one day I'll hear an echo.

And in that echo a knowing, a knowing that there is an end to the chasm. 

Because the tornadic black hole that I call my mind is raging and howling and destroying each house of memories that I have built. Tearing down the self-esteem that I have laid brick by brick.

So don't tell me to take it easy, when easy is never a feeling I have known.