Gone, gone, gone.

You don't know what you've got 'till it's gone.
Such a cliche yet unbearably real.

You don't understand that emotion is a necessity until you rid your bones of all joy, all despair, all that you considered a pest. Left with nothing but emptiness growing inside you, numbness seeping into the darkest corners of your echoing mind. By believing you can't live the way you're feeling, you rid yourself of the only thing you cannot live without. Releasing everything you've ever known doesn't come without cost. It pours out of you, taking with it the life in your eyes and attracting demons who feed on hopelessness. Finally empty, you remain a shell. A shell awaiting the arrival of bitter creatures who demand control over your lifeless body. Going through the motions day in, day out. Feel the pressure surrounding you, feel yourself drowning yet unable to find the will to care. That's the most worrying thing. You don't care what happens to you. When you can't sleep or eat and you've failed at every basic action it takes to remain a person you grow weak. Stare blankly ahead. You stop living. Just exist. Move about each day waiting for when they finally take you as their own. Yet another victim caught by vicious monsters that began as mere whispers in your head. Driven mad seeing a battle against yourself unfold before you. Driven mad suffering battle wounds inflicted by you. Driven mad losing yourself.

When you've lost your mind and your soul, there's nothing keeping you here. There is no longer an anchor keeping you firmly by the shore. Float away into the mist, be swallowed by the shadows who feed on lost souls.
No turning back.

Gone, gone, gone.