Sinking deeper and deeper...
What happened?
Blade gleaming in the candlelit room.
We were happy, weren't we?
The radio blaring, assuring that no one heard the sound...
Did you love me at all?
Sweet relief, pleasureful pain, memories returning...
What happened?
Heh, I can feel the high now, the clock is ticking faster then it was. My time is running short, but there is one last thing I need to do...
...Are you ready...?
The fatigue is coming... my sight has blurred, my body is numb. But... I'm not ready to die yet... not just yet...
Was it my fault?
There is no pain as the skin slides gracefully across the wall, like it is dancing. My crimson as my ink... almost done... I fall on my knees, but the message isn't finished... I continue to write...
You never truly cared... was it a game? A game of sleepless nights, loving you to death...
A smile of perfection as the work of art was completed. My body limps and I collapse onto the hard floor, watching the blood drip fot the last few seconds of my life... I hear a bang on the door... It interrupted my almost slumber...
Why did I let you walk away...?
Seconds later, I see him, at the edge of the room. His gasp, his scream, I will cherish them both... I feel myself slipping away as he holds me in his arms...
You're too late! You're too late! What are you going to do now?...
Good-bye...
Well... this was suppose to be a vacation, a summer break thing, ya know? And, yeah, I took a break, a need for sometime off, but it was more then I had figured... Sorry, but this is where we end my little tale. For, it was all I could remember as I slipped away... The last thing I remember, being in his arms, laying half-dead in a hotel room... Why am I telling you this? I cannot be sure myself... It simply feels right, you know what I mean?...
Hopefully you dont...
Thank you Big Brother... for everthing...
What happened?
Blade gleaming in the candlelit room.
We were happy, weren't we?
The radio blaring, assuring that no one heard the sound...
Did you love me at all?
Sweet relief, pleasureful pain, memories returning...
What happened?
Heh, I can feel the high now, the clock is ticking faster then it was. My time is running short, but there is one last thing I need to do...
...Are you ready...?
The fatigue is coming... my sight has blurred, my body is numb. But... I'm not ready to die yet... not just yet...
Was it my fault?
There is no pain as the skin slides gracefully across the wall, like it is dancing. My crimson as my ink... almost done... I fall on my knees, but the message isn't finished... I continue to write...
You never truly cared... was it a game? A game of sleepless nights, loving you to death...
A smile of perfection as the work of art was completed. My body limps and I collapse onto the hard floor, watching the blood drip fot the last few seconds of my life... I hear a bang on the door... It interrupted my almost slumber...
Why did I let you walk away...?
Seconds later, I see him, at the edge of the room. His gasp, his scream, I will cherish them both... I feel myself slipping away as he holds me in his arms...
You're too late! You're too late! What are you going to do now?...
Good-bye...
Well... this was suppose to be a vacation, a summer break thing, ya know? And, yeah, I took a break, a need for sometime off, but it was more then I had figured... Sorry, but this is where we end my little tale. For, it was all I could remember as I slipped away... The last thing I remember, being in his arms, laying half-dead in a hotel room... Why am I telling you this? I cannot be sure myself... It simply feels right, you know what I mean?...
Hopefully you dont...
Thank you Big Brother... for everthing...
Community Member
For some reason as I look further back on it, I feel as though the piercing of the blade was not meant to kill; but to call him there. Not meant to end the pain but to mend it one last and final time. Of course, though, I could just be looking too far into it . . . I just feel like the phrases "help me," or maybe even, "heal me," are bleeding into its forefront. This piece is dark, desperate, and not at all leads one to feel at peace.
The center of your resolve while writing is one of great hope- and it intrigues me how you've decided to take an eerie route with it. Sometimes I think that those whom decide to take such a path with hope, are the ones who possess the purest form of hope anyone could ever achieve.
--Keep in mind that hope isn't always up-beat and motivating. Hope simply exists even when everything else decides to vanish. Hope is always there. Sometimes we get upset and decide to try and shun it; however that does not mean that hope just gets up and leaves. I believe that every center contains some amount of hope, but by your writing I find that your center of resolve contains some of the strongest.
Why else would you be reaching so far out like this? Why else . . . Would you be writing?
I enjoyed this piece very much, thank you.