He lays face up to the night sky.
The hard wash boards of the roof dig into his shirtless back.
The cold summer rain falls slowly.
Soaking his hair and jeans.
His left hand reaches for the sky.
Droplets of rain mix with his flowing tears.
He reaches for the memories of his childhood.
Thinking that, if he feels the tingle of the floating memory he could re-live his younger life.
No yelling.
No hate.
No sadness.
No tiredness.
No depression.
No suicide attempts.
He longs for that day of his younger childhood to grace him again.
But that will never happen.
For life is a number that only goes up.
It will never minus.
No matter how many tears he sheds.
No matter how many wishes he makes. Life will never go back.
So he takes the chance to end this life of misery.
His demons took control.
His demons force him to raise his knife. His demons force him to plunge the sharp silver into his chest.
His breathing slows.
His heart stops.
His eyes black.
Everything stops in that moment of time.
His tears stain his pale cheeks as the blood flows over the edge of the roof.
He smiles as his life is ripped from his grasp.
Finally he re-lives his long loved memory.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Shorts
RandomThis is just a book of what I want to write down. I put it on here hoping it could help others see that their not alone. I would not call them stories or poems. Just thoughts that get stuck in my head for the day, or even just a scene I wish to add...
