I’d give everything I have and half my soul to leave this place.
When memories play like a broken record, they become slotted perfectly in my mind to fill the gaps. The sleepless nights, the tears.
The biggest mercy would be forgetting it all. But mercy is so far. So far. I’ll forget how to spell it if I don’t leave.
It gets tiring being strong. Then again pretending isn’t really being. Rather walk away from it all. Far. Far away.
It’s the worst feeling in the world. Worse still, the fact that it still haunts me. But then again it is a haunting feeling.
The burden on my soul. To know that the death is the bitterest because of the film reel it’s lent my mind. The need to leave grows.
The burden grows in the womb of time. And unlike the need to leave, it overpowers and kills what was there, causing me to kill myself.
Bitterest gall. Tyrannical storms in my chest. Hateful spite in my mind. Swords aimed at me, held by me, praying for an end.
The door, open like a gaping mouth. The wind whirling and roaring in laughter. An end. An end. So far. So far. Needing closure.