you never did care did you?
special?
that's what you said right?
or was it different?
either way,
I mean nothing to you.
I mean as much to you as a grain of rice.
•
have you ever had that feeling?
the physical heart ache,
not one because you're ill,
but because of someone else,
you long to talk to that person,
to listen to their voice,
to listen to their troubles and happiness,
to talk with them,
but.
they don't want to talk to you.
it hurts.
what did I do wrong?
did I say something wrong?
the pain in your chest gets sharper,
like a blade and you feel as though you may split open.
your heart feels as though it may fail,
and you,
will fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes,
and lay there lifeless.
but at least the heartache has gone right?
no more pain.
no more suffering.
no more.
•
but you wouldn't know how that feels,
would you?
you only inflict that heartache onto others,
making them suffer,
putting them in pain.
you.
you stand and watch.
why?
why do you put them through that?
even the innocent ones.
you are the devil.
you are not human.
and I can't recognise you anymore.
which makes me sad.
because you're in pain too,
and you think by inflicting it on others it'll help.
no.
you won't talk to me,
or anyone else,
but I pray to god,
I want you to.
you're killing everything you care about,
eliminating us,
one by one,
off your checklist,
check.
•
please be okay,
please talk to me.
no problem is too pathetic or stupid,
if it's annoying you,
it matters babe.
you matter.
you talk about taking your life,
I believe that you will,
and I'm trying with words,
but they won't come out,
I plan on what to say,
but when I'm about to type or talk,
they turn into dust,
they disappear into thin air,
and I'm sorry,
I'm trying my best,
but I want you to at least give me a chance to save you,
to show you the wonders you have yet to see,
hold on.
please.
even the devil wants to be shown mercy,
I pray,
I type,
that's all I can do to save you.
