it's raining black tiles, pieces of the souls of those who chose to walk in the dark.
if you pick up a piece, you will see your undoing staring back at you in the face.
you are instantly hit with the remembrances of all those you have tormented.
falling to your knees, you can't help but cry out.
your intestines are twisting in on themselves, showing you all the corners of Memory Lane you chose to forget.
you kneel, unable to escape, because when you close your eyes the vision becomes clearer.
you are up to your stomach in black tile and the cuts on your head and arms are bleeding profusely, the blood lining your body in a language only you understand; its blinding you- filling your eyes, and choking you- filling your nose.
you're drowning in your own ******* blood
until you finally manage to get the courage to scream out how sorry you are.
how you wish you had done things differently.
how you will act differently in the future.







your alarm clock goes off.

choose wisely
how
to
live