Its like a stab wound, you can't remove the knife but you can't live with it in you. Its the blood being soaked into your shirt to show you youre still standing. He plays with the handle, struggling through life with it stuck in his chest. He hates seeing those tear stained faces of the people who adore him but what can he do, he can't free himself from something that would kill him. He knows he has to remove the thing causing him pain. But the thing killing him is something he is disgustingly in love with, he embraces the pain for the love it brings but its making hom deteriorate from the inside out. The words are trapped by the nuse stuck around his neck, hands trying to break the ropes to hold his loved ones as he leaves but he knows, he knows they'd stop him. Blood fills the room he stands in, staining the white floors and walls, cuts are like tattoos on his skin, he pushed so hard until he couldn't anymore. Its a single jump away until he hears a promising voice in the halls, it's singing a song not of its origin but it's so natural, yet foreign. It comes to his room and opens the door with tears down the cheeks he once kissed, cupped, the hands balled up as they untie all the ropes holding him back, he falls into the small arms, knife falling out of his chest and the wound almost like magic, gone. he's never felt so empty and filled in one moment. The lies and secrets leave as he sees the figure in his arms. He can't help but cry his eyes out. The knife on the floor is gone like everything around them. He can hear screams but he just walks with his rose, off into a blinding light. He's in the light but he's hanging limp in the air, a rope holding his neck snug and hands together, a knife gouged into his chest.
