Sometimes laying down is all it takes to heal you. To just have those ten minutes, or even twenty, or maybe even an hour. But sometimes it doesn't work. Sometimes the pain lies far beneath the surface and cannot be healed by stepping away. And sometimes you have no idea how to handle it. So you emerge yourself into the pain, falling deeper into the rabbit hole of self destruction. But then, you find your way back up. Bruised, scarred, thousands of open wounds vulnerable to even more hurt than ever. You walk around day in and day out. A clear target for anyone to destroy. And then it happens. They pull out the gun and shoot you. Over and over and over. You close your eyes at the scene. You expect to be nothing but a pile of ashes. But you're not. You ask why? Why god? Why me on this earth when there's a billion new people to replace me.
~
Your wounds heal, but your pain does not. Your questions go unanswered. And with every death wish life gets better. You can't seem to understand. Why me?
