Dear Diary,
My footsteps made a dull thud on the concrete, the rain pelted down. I didn’t wish I had an umbrella. I tilted my face up, letting the rain mix with the tears that poured down my face relentlessly. I stumbled once, my trembling knees buckling under me. Then I fell. It was graceful in its own sense. My legs just stopped working and crumpled to the sidewalk, strait into a puddle. There was no pain as I feel, there was no pain as I landed, I didn’t even want to get up. The bleak darkness of sorrow hung over me as it had all day, but now you could see it, I didn’t have to hide it for any friends. No one was around to see me. In fact, I didn’t even want to get up from the cold grasp of the water.
I had to get up, and I proceeded to do so. It was all just movement; my anguish filled brain didn’t care anymore. No, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, although I can blame it on so many people. It was all my fault, and that hurt. I have become numb.
I reached my back door, sliding the silver key into the lock and twisting. I slid inside, threw my book bag on the floor and threw my jacket at the wall with a twist of fury with a satisfying thud. I slid my sleeve up, looking at the pink marks that covered my pale skin. No, not cuts, I promised them I wouldn’t. I dug my nails into my skin and slid toi floor. Tears spilled over, more and more, running down my face. I wanted just to die, right there.
I needed a savior, no one came, no one would. I just wanted to be dead. Alone, that’s what I am.
So alone.
I don’t care what anyone thinks, no one knows me, not fully.
I’m so sad, so alone, so desperate.
My emotions have been stripped from me; my happiness, gone, my love, stolen, my hope, ripped apart.
I’m left with sadness, despair, pain and anger.
But what can I say, maybe I’m supposed to be alone. It would make so much more sense.
What do I do Diary?
- M
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Beginnings and Endings,
ContoBits of story's that will never be finished unless asked, poems if sorrow, love, and pain...
