Will raindrops be fallin on my head in the spring? Will I say "here comes the sun!" In the summertime? Will I thank anyone for being a friend and then some in the fall?...
Will I be home for Christmas in the winter?
These are questions I ask myself daily. My strength is dwindling, my determination is tanking. Can I do this? Will I do this? Do I want to do this? Or would I rather let go, letting my damaged soul shatter like broken glass, it's jagged edges tearing through the atmosphere and going beyond to "a better place."
Going, going, gone. My body limp with indifference, my soul beyond the horizon, my brain frozen in a perfectly permanent peace. Sounds calming. Sounds soothing. Sounds as if the time draws nearer with every passing second.
Tick, tick, tick.
Family. Friends. Foes. School. Work. Love. Hate. Pain. Anguish. Release. All left behind in the wake of a split second decision, an earth-shattering moment, a swift flick of the wrist and...
And I won't feel the raindrops fall onto my head. I won't say "here comes the sun!" I won't thank anyone for being my friend.
And, no, I won't be home for Christmas. I don't think you'll be able to count on me.
