My scars show that I've persevered through many trials and tribulations but at what point do the memories the scars bring back stop being enough, when does the self loathing and hatred go away and when does the fickle mind of a simple boy stop feeling like a medieval prison meant for an old man. I'm stepping closer to the edge where sanity slips and all that's left to comfort is a small dark voice devoid of any simple feelings except for twisted joy in your pain. Sleeping pills have always been my preferred method of going....one final slip into the darkness of my mind only to be thrust into whatever waits for me in the never ending ether.
" The click of the gun, like a kiss to my temple
I press down and suddenly it embraces me like a mother to her newborn, I swallow not out of fear or sadness but instead out of relief, relief that all these feelings,this heartache, hatred, anger, and sadness will finally cease and my heart will finally stop aching to the point of physical pain. Wipe those tears as they are wasted on me please take my life, my failures and short Cummings and do better for yourself like I never could. I was never strong or sturdy it was all but a facade so that I could do my job and help relieve all the pain from those around me. In short I was weak. Weak enough that one instance of true heart break, broke me down and never rebuilt me. In the end just remember, "Those who court death intimately are the ones with the most hidden within themselves....they are the ones with the darkest shadows within themselves."
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