As the hollow chambers of my heart contract and expand the ever present beat that is created by the action pulses blood around my fleshy husk keeping the essence of life anchored in place so that I may endure the pain of this world that refuses to let me take my leave as so that I may rest. Why? Why must I remain when those far more deserving of this gift have been denied and refused? The question haunts my restless nights leveeing me with the knife against my wrist once more wishing for the peace that the reaper will one day bring as he doses to us all and when that day comes I shall greet him as an old companion and let him take what he desires as he brings me to the gates of the afterlife where I may taste true happiness for the first time in such a long time. But why do I not hasten his arrival I hear you whisper in the far corners of your mind and it is simply thus. People... People are why I cannot realise my mortal coil and yes I may hate the vast majority of the plague that burdens this beautiful world there are some that I have come to consider friends and people I love and for a reason that escapes my feeble mind they seem to return this affection and my absence from this place would bring them nought but pain and suffering and I will NOT Be responsible for that. And that's why I stay thine shaking hand from drawing the sharpened blade down the pale white of my wrists and instead contain the life inside that the chambers of my heart supply me with because pain never truly leaves but merrily transfers like a virus. When the host is no longer an option it will transfers to those that are close to me and if I allow that to happen then I could never achieve true rest and peace in death and my death would lose all purpose so I will stay until the rope holding the sword above my head rots away and the blade falls in the form of old age for then people will have left and I will be as alone as I always feel when those I love have left me and gone to their lives whilst I sit in the shadow of self-pity forever suffering the beating of my heart
