I could hear this noise, very close to me, it must be 'LOVE'. Searching for me, in these heaps of broken 'Dreams'. My 'World', shattered, in ruins, 'Buildings' damaged and abandoned, 'Roads' bereft of people, with rows of broken-down vehicles. Wild nature, thriving on everything, immovable. And there it was, 'LOVE', picking things up and throwing them aside, looking underneath. I scampered for a new cover, farther away from the area under search. I managed a peek and had a quick look at my hunter. Beautiful! That's what they told me. Don't fall for the looks! It only looks beautiful from the outside. Once you are caught up, you'll be hurled up in the sky, pulled down, beaten, broken, mauled and eventually left half dead. It's not supposed to hunt ugly people. Can't it see? Is it blind? Oh! Now it was wandering too close for comfort. Could it hear my heartbeats? I had no control over them, my racing heart, making me invulnerable and susceptible at the same time. In the very next moment, even before I could move away to another cover, with a swift, almost invisible move, it appeared directly over me and removed the tainted window glass I was hiding under. I had to make a choice, I didn't have time to deal with 'LOVE'. In a desperate move, I threw a 'cold heart' at it and made a dash across the street screaming, "Go away! Just leave me alone you stupid thing." As I gained some distance, I paused for a bit and looked back at it struggling to mend that cold heart. And for a moment it looked up at me, dejected and hopeless. I took a quick left and then a right and hurried on to this long and winding road, pointed blades of grass on the two sides, smoke bellowing at a distance and the mile marker reading :
                        'Hell
                        50 KMS'.

This is the abyss. This pain, heartburn and this agony. Every day, I see my will to live getting chipped at the foundation, corroded by years of depression. Each day the desire to **** myself lunges at me and tries to pull me in. The bruised and battered kid in me screams "I don't want to die! " but only the lips move and no sound comes out of my mouth. I burst out crying. It temporarily numbs the pain but the feeling lingers. Death deferred to another day. I thought of another way of killing myself today. I quickly took note as I'm forgetting things easily these days. What will be left of me when the devil takes my soul away? My physical body, my sad life, a few stories, and some poems. Poems, most of them written for someone who doesn't even know me. I'm not dying for her, definitely not her. No, not for a person. I'm dying for love, more so for its absence. I craved for love, I searched for it, I thought I found it, I begged for it and I'm going to die for it. My action is going to ease the pains of the people around me. The ones who suffered because of me. The ones that heard me but got tired. My life is a mess, it always has been. They have people that love them, promises that need to be fulfilled, love to be found. And you, reading this. I have no malice towards you. There's nothing you can do. But read this and forget, because life isn't as rosy as we thought it to be and this isn't the experience I am speaking from. This is me, losing the battle, on my knees, waiting for that final blow of a sword. One that puts me back in the same elements I emerged from, ridding the society of my burden.