A bout with pain
Sometimes the written word can only describe something so horrible as the near certainty of an early death... My life seemed to have already slipped away: Curled up tightly, crying. Sobs wracking my body. With every fell breath they become that deeper still. My stomach is gone, having lept out my mouth. All around me is a gray mist and I am stuck in this paralled field to what must have at once been my life. The bottle in my listless hand, empty and light. Sounds are blurred as though they have nothing within them. Merely a window into the music of what will never be. A bead of sweat slowly drips down my pallid brow and lands on the bedsheets in front of me. I shiver with my internal cold and hope oh so feverantly to let it all end. Scared Alone ............. Without hope for myself... nay... without hope for humanity. Written April 18th, 2002 © on Apr 17 2002 04:24 PM PST 10 • 0 • 1
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"Sometimes the written word can only describe something so horrible as the near certainty of an early death......"