probably don't read

a spoon of the past

As I sat there, a rusty spoon in the middle of my stomach. Bleeding a river onto the ground. I sung a song that we all know. "Fuck living, fuck dying, fuck laughing, fuck crying, fuck this song, but mostly fuck yo..." it got harder to sing as my body got weaker. The pool getting bigger, as I struggled to continue. "Fuck everything, but fuck... you the most, fuck everyone but fu.." I coughed trying to get the words out. My killer looking me in the eye, as he cries listening to the song our mother sang to us every night. The light was fading but I felt a touch, and distant screaming of my brother. With what I assume is regret in his voice. I can't feel or hear any more, everything is gone as I take my last breath.