is it magic or is it witchcraft

Nobody will ever understand what it's like to get the darkers of self destructive thoughts in this beautiful world of sun and laughter filled days and romance filled nights. By sun and laughter I mean when I see strangers smirk at their phones as that text had just come through or children carelessly playing at the nearby lake. By romance filled nights I mean the 3am wake up to see your precious little ones smile or the smell of your loved one underneath the covers in a heat of the moment. That's somebody's perfect days and nights. Somebody's reality.

Going through an unbelievable break of something that is being taken away from you although not even yours. The dreadful waking screach you hear for a couple of seconds before you open your eyes. Your own voice waking you up from the cold blooded, goose bump worthy, inescapable nightmare. As you wipe the cold shivery sweat from your forehead you realise that your nightmares are almost a spring walk in the park in comparison to what's waiting for you in the real world.

His hands were the warmest of all in the entire world. Smile brighter than the sun. Aura so vibrant it could swallow any unhappiness in the room he walks into. Eyes of the bluest skies and deepest ocean waves. So lost. Hazel spark in the eye of my god. Hazel soul and sticky oily rotten ideas.

Figure of a woman but something of a guey substance on the inside. Half heart half brain stitched together under a knife of madness and heartache. Remembrance of the days where the heart was the leader and smilies with loud laughter filled every day. Shameful works of the time. Time is not a healer but a hope.

The gueiness is hopelessly black and empty. A toxic substance that will kill anything that works it's curious way to the inside. It swallows. It reeches and burns. It feeds off the nights filled with hearted, cherry eyes and yellow-purple arms. It feeds off bitter love. Love that is just as toxic as it's own form. It tares it's victims flesh off with its acidy finger nails and threatens with its razer sharp teeth if they make a sound. It wears it's victims skin like a tophy, clumsily patched up together using buldges of hair clumps. The smells grows so strong and offensive it can no longer see with its button eyes. Nothing but blood pouring out the eye sockets with burned flesh eye lids.

When she can control it enough to stay on the inside life is a walk in the park. With roses, birds and romance all night.

When it takes over, she is no longer.

When it takes over, the hazel tint pours out of his eyes and warmest hands turn into axes which are after her. She can only but run for her life and pray for hope, for more time, for tomorrow. Time is nothing but a hopeless illusion when it makes an appearance. When it's out, he loses his logical shape and she no longer thinks with her peachy bloody heart but only with the black, rotten brain as it takes over every organ and every last happy memory. It causes chaos and hurricanes. Stops her breathing... slowly. She is no longer. It let's go and goes back to rest until next time.

When the toxic parraller her is unconscious and beried deep down within her, rainbows start to appear back on the horizon of time. On the horizon of future filled with most beautoful and satisfying, peaceful world. So it seems.

The dagame however is done. Interior nightmare became reality because it intoxicated her whole world. It only left ruins and ashes behind. The life she once knew is no longer. Heavy sticky darkness hanging above her head as the wind struggles to clear it. Hell bloody red flesh remains lay everywhere as tears pour out of her faded eyes. White, pale skin is now covered in ketchup and mustard as it consumed bowels like sausages.

She is now left all to her self and the damage made. But it looked down and saw the reflection in water. Her long wavy hair was moving slowly in the wind as it became herself again and flashbacks start to emerge.

Is this another persona living within one?