| Finding my way out of here is taking longer than I thought. Finding my way out of my mind. Finding my way out of this place. It's taking much more than time. It was taking something inside of me. Tearing it. Ripping into it. And making me hurt. I drew my knees to my chest and tried to remember how to breathe again. Tried to remember what it was like to be without worries or cares or so much inner pain that I just wanted to stand up and tear into myself with my nails. My ragged nails. The nails that I have chewed and torn with my worry. I wanted to take out the pain from inside me and throw it away, throw it to the floor and stamp on it with my bare foot. I wanted to feel it die between my toes. I wanted the knowledge that it would never hurt anyone else again. But I couldn't. I was stuck here waiting for my cue to exit. Waiting for the moment in which it would be the best to leave and to disappear into the crowds of people. It was taking so long. So fucking long. But was it even worth it? So many times alone in my room, or alone in my head would I think about the worth of risking everything. Would I finally be happy? Would I finally be satisfied? If only I had something or someone now to pretend to be happy with. If only I had something... Anything. I tried to swallow back the desperation of it all. I'm so pathetic. So fucking pathetic that it made me stare down my nose at my own reflection in the mirror. Ha. I scratched at my knee and pushed my hair back from my face. I was anxious, and nervous, and so insanely tired of myself. I just wanted to stop everything and look at myself. I wanted to do... ... Yeah. I wish it was so easy. I closed my eyes and I smelled something sweet. I smelled the sweetness of what I want. Of something that may not be worth it. Of something I may not deserve. Of something that could forsake me. Or make me better. I tightened my hand around my own wrist, digging the sharp scrapes of my nails into my skin. Almost there. The End |
| Coming To A Faraway End By: V |