That feeling when you already ripped yourself apart of your lust, desire and longing and writing it on paper with blood and you hope it’s nailed there and is forever done and gone from bothering you from deep within. But it just doesn’t suffice and you’re going nuts thinking how you can purge it from your system. It’s just so fucking hard!
Does writing really help you get through it or does it nurture the feelings and fuels it further? Does writing really set you free or you get more enslaved, with the shackles eating its way to the bones?