Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
blake Jan 2018
Hot iron pressed against my chest. My skin tears and muscles rip. My ribs and my spine are now broken. I fall to the ground, and break my skull. I am stepped on. I am crushed. My guts are spilling over the floor. I am dead.
I feel like I can barely breathe. Is it really that difficult to see me the way I am?

— The End —