Dear Who Finds This:

He was always running.

Not literally (though he did run literally sometimes), but more figuratively because one can’t run away from themselves, can they?

Yes, he kept trying to run away from himself, the broken shell that was himself, his problems, and the sinking feeling that made him feel as though he was drowning, water filling his lungs and weighing him down till he disappears.

       I’m Sorry.

He wanted it to stop.

He just wanted it all to just stop.

The whispers, the stares, the feeling of panic and dread that sunk him down, just all of it.

But he didn’t know how to get rid of it all, how to make it stop, and what to do.

He never did.

       I Kept On Running When I Should’ve Stopped.

He just wanted- needed to be free.

Free from the chains that pressed against his wrists, cool metal brushing across skin, pulling him below the ground into a pit of darkness that swallowed him whole.

Free from the cold that seeped into him whenever he felt the stares trace his form, mocking him with their eyes and whispering with dark taunts traveled through his body till they covered all him all.

But people sometimes can’t get what they want or need, and that’s how life is; unfair.

       And Perhaps I Should Just Look Up To Face Another Day

He kept looking down.

Always down, never up to see the pitying faces that were painted on in a play of pretend. He didn’t want to see their painted masks, the cracks that might’ve broken through or the perfect strokes that made a portrait of beauty that covered up what was underneath.

He also knew that if he looked up, he’d have to deal with facing everything he didn’t want to: work, problems, and just life itself. But he wasn’t ready for that. But he knew… he knew that he needed to

Look Up.

        And Let Go.

And so he did.

       From, James Peterson