My hands grasped the grass.
I gazed below, watching everyone,
The people and buildings that ruled over me,
Reduced to tiny ants.
Little capitalistic bugs.
Bugs I wish I could squash.
My eyes drifted to the pale sky.
I gazed at a cloud.
I longed to swap places.
To drift through life.
No soul.
No emotions.
No suffering.
Only one thing really could give me the same peace:
An end.
And if death was the answer, so be it.
I sent out a silent prayer.
Whoever was out there.
Someone, something had to be listening.
But no, nothing.
The windows of the hollow buildings below blinked indifferently.
The harrowing hole in my chest slowly stripped me of my soul.
The hole depleted any reason.
Devouring my insides.
Begging me to give in.