The Burning.

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Burning. Scalding. The tiny sharp needle pricks that trickles down my wrist, like the warm tongue of hell fire dancing up my arm as the cold thin steel leaves my skin. The razor dropped to the floor as a result of my shivvering hands, clattering at the floor. I retrieve the razor and press it into my flesh and drag the keen blade over my wrist. Blood sprouted in three pin size beads in the first instance, then - some thirty seconds later - it pours out and down my arm from the entire length of the laceration. The pain, unbearable as it is, reminds me of the constant hate and judgement society brings me. I bleed these words that people have nailed to me. Two red lines, for "annoying" and "ugly." many more words to release, to expel from my bloodstream and my soul. I strike at my arm again, a large wide red-black gash stares at me from my epidermis. My ichor spills out and my quivering hematic hands struggle to contain the blood. I go faint and I rush to the bathroom, my blood leaks out and blemishes the white tiles on the floor. I open a cupboard and instantly search for gauze. none passes over my eyes. I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying. My grasp on the door suddenly loosens. I shout. There's no one. I'm alone. Darkness incarcerates me and I lose consciousness. Suddenly, there is a sharp blinding light, pale blue uniforms and a clear fluid going into my left arm and an inky red fluid going into my right arm at my inner elbow. There is light and dark, light and dark, light and finally dark. I suddenly jot awake, a generous amount of gauze over my left wrist. Feeling in my arm is minimal and it is blindingly bright. A voice reassures me of my survival but doubt clouds his voice. My skull is pounding and my brain feels like fur. Everything is fuzzy, my hearing, the feeling in my head, my vision. My entire lower body's control has been thieved from me. My vision goes dark again and i dont feel anything. My entire existance has been plucked from me, like i am entirely insignificant and that i wont be missed and yet i feel nothing. Nothing physically, nothing psycologically. Then i notice it, the water. The cool shallow water. Black. Blacker than a charred corpse the water consumed me and i struggle for survival but alas there is nothing, no one, to hold onto. I let the disciloured water incarcerate me and then I am gone. No one can help me now, not even i can help me now. It all just shows that when it comes down to the grand scheme of life and existance, no one can control anything that happens and we will all die and materialistic possesions make it harder to say goodbye...

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 18, 2017 ⏰

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