Twisted, protruding and mangled; my heart. Life seems levitated upon my resting place, right there at your feet. Can I be allowed a phone call to my shattered body; do please reassure my flesh that I still exist.
Numbness only to secure abstinence; easier said than done, only the strong prevail. Rubber grips and a metal frame and the smell of burnt sulphur and carbon; the tool that drove life right out of my left temple. I am right handed; with my own hand, my own absence of leave. I want to live, I want to die again another time; just not as I am now; unfulfilled.
Through torture and pain, I am a fighter. I am dramatically a complainer, tools such as questions and expectations, my unbecoming. Feather light as I float, my expectations, again, my reason I am not me...
Dont bring me back, cry for me; hold me hard, rock my body in your arms, stay, don't just leave. I have no one, no empty spaces to fill; to fill like a cup with the chagrin of my decisions. Let me stay, just hold me; even more for it's the last time.