The Fall

in #writing6 years ago

The end is here. I’m giving up. My mind is weak. My chest hurts. My soul is dead. everyday that I exist in this world, the pain gets worse. Everything I touch breaks. Everything I love is gone and out of my reach.
I fucked it up.
I had a beautiful purpose in this world. I was an angel. I was here to bring light and to heal the broken-hearted.
I know this is true.
I’m sorry to all of the ones that I could not save, and I’m especially sorry to myself. I killed myself a long time ago but nobody noticed that I was gone.
Nobody.
I can tell you what it’s like to die. It hurts. Your chest feels compressed, all of the time, all of the seconds of every minute, of every hour of every day. You’re watching everyone living their lives, you stare as people as they’re walking past you and you wonder if they can see you.
It’s hard for you to breathe, to think.
You try to swim but you are too weak and tired to keep trying. Eventually you realize that the best decision is to relax,
to become numb and to close your eyes while the water is filling your lungs.

(To be continued...)

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