Yet a sea of tears and blood had
rusted the metal and aptly allowed the pain to spill out once more.
A traumatic recession into the
memories that I’ve long since trapped away in the cobwebbed corners of my long
haunted mind.
I hid for days within the constricted
confines of my decrepit bedroom.
My notebook overflowing with the rants
and musings of an over emotional mind.
Never had I hurt like this before.
Never did I ever see this pain going
away.
I think I’m broken.
It was times like this that I ran away
to the Shallows.
Charlatan had showed me a way out.
Of the pain.
The memories.
The suicidal tendencies.
Now the door’s been slammed shut in my
face.
Leaving me to flail around in the
darkness, looking for something.
Anything.
That could grant me the same amount of
happiness that he had shown me.
I sit up.
Wipe my tears.
Maybe.
Maybe I shouldn’t wait.
Maybe I shouldn’t just lay here
begging for a miracle to come take me away.
Maybe I should make it happen myself.
Within moments I’m prepared.
A bag filled with just essentials.
Plus, my notebook.
Maybe I shouldn’t be waiting for a
path to open up for me.
Maybe I just have to take a chance.
And open one up for myself.
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