FRAGILE || Matty Healy

He didn't know why he spent every night there, or why he left every morning with a little more self hatred burning in his chest, or why his eyes closed contently with each red line on his wrist.

All he knew was the wind was blowing too loud for anyone to hear him screaming at the world, and the black depths hiding under the cliff looked so peacefull and calm, endless darkness he could easily get lost in, just like the bottles he's thrown there when he tried to numb his mind, like stars in the night sky that were shining above his head, he wanted to dissapear into nothingness, go to sleep and never wake up, but there was still that part of him that wanted to see the sun rise one more time, that one little part that kept whispering about the dust that stars left after they fell, and he didn't want that.

He didnt want to become nothing but a pile of dust, forgotten in the darkness that he was diving into, and that one little thought kept him standing on the edge of the cliff, looking into the sky as it slowly turned red with the sunrise, only to realize he tried twenty seven times already, and never succeeded, and he wanted to throw himself off the cliff just to prove himself that he can, but then he felt a touch on his shoulder and by death he didnt know the body radiating warmth right into his skin might be the only (and maybe the last) thing he needed.