To take it all in, squirming, turning, trying to get out, feeling as if she cant get out, wanting to get out, crying, dying, inside pacing over and over, her heart beating faster and faster as the moment goes on, worrying and not sure why, there is a kind of pain, like a weight on her chest, but the kind of pain the comes from a minds pain, making her think it was coming from some other place, knowing all too well that the mind just doesn't want you to know, the truth that lies in the back of your mind, this kind of pain leads to being insane, but is that the right word to use?, It's just your mind playing games with you, can you notice it? Feel it? The pain is growing stronger each day, she wants to know why she feels this way, but no matter what she tries to figure out it remains hidden, in the back of her mind, crying in need to be heard, but can't speak, by now you feel your hart is going to explode, beating like a horrifying drum and you can't stop the beat, or can you? She can even hear it beating in her head, praying it will stop, but it doesn't, she starts to cry, pacing faster, she can't find the comfort to calm herself, not wanting to tell, afraid of what they will say, tears of fear and pain rolling down her cold cheeks, she has a remedy, thrashing, and then out comes her cold blood on the floor, the pain her mind has caused was slowing but surely fading, for the pain on the outside steals the minds attention, but the same pain comes back time and time again, never quite going away, she feels she can't bare this feeling of that some kind of emptiness that she nor anyone can fill, she is slowly losing, losing the life, spirit, and soul she once had, with each drop of pain flowing out, her spirit dies more and more, she can not possibly live another moment like this, this kind of pain is unbearable, she thinks being with the deceased is a simpler way of being, the last cut was the worst, the deepest, it pushed everything over the limits that it could take, she is gone, living the life she claims she wanted all along, at least it all happened in her favorite place for everything to happen, where all her thoughts were processed at, now there is no meaning, no reason, and no soul in her favorite place.
In her room is where she lays; it is her favorite place to be
November 26, 2007