Bound by ink

Ink.
I watched as the black droplets were submerged into the papers and staining them so innocently oblivious to the wreckage that is now my life.
It's okay they said.
Is it?
It's for the better they say.
Whose?
It'll get better.
Better?
You'll get used to it.
Will I now?
Don't be ungrateful.
Am I?
The sounds around me are drowned out by the ringing of my own ears as I sink into the bottomless ocean that is my thoughts and I welcome the familiar warmth of the darkness that has become a home to me.