This Is Really Morbid, but, I would like some opinions...If anyone likes it, I may post some more of mine...
Here it is...
Heather.....
4/15/2003
This Is The thing that I wrote today, that has drained me so. I hope you guys like it...Trishy~...... ...
All These Days sitting alone, trying desperately to find a reason to live. Reality strikes hard, as, one-by-one her dreams fall into the forves of darkness invading her life.
Breathing hard as a prayer is once more lifted up for a release from this hell that has become her life. She runs up the steps to the dark room once again. Blocking out the vicious words of hate spoken in a blind rage, the tears, unwanted slip down her fair cheeks. Her one desire was to have one person to love her more than anything.
She lays on her bed staring at the celiling, making friends with shadows on her wall. She slowly stands up, and, walks to the mirror. She is shocked by her own reflection, as she sees a ghostly-pale, tear-lined face, shadowed with pain. Her figure, once so curved and full, now is ravaged by the desire to look perfect in today's society. The fire and passion, once so clear and bright, is now overcome with econfusion, fear, and, worry. Her faith in God, once so strong is now weakened by the pain inflicted on her by human hands.
She makes the decision as she fails once more. Reaching into the top drawer, she pulls out the object of destruction. As the blade flashes into every corner of the room like so many thousand crystals and diamonds, she pleads one more time for someone to love her. She realizes everything is not like she's seen in the movies, and, she bleeds just to know that she is alive. Her world was made to be broken. The cruel blade flashes again and again, over the pure white arm, as she begs for someone just to know who she is. But, she knows that she's fighting a battle that she will lose.
Her mind is made up this time. Blindly searching for answers, she sees this as the only option left to end the pain. The knife shimmers as the life-blood drains from her arms. She hears foot-steps, and quickly hides under the mountain of blankets. The light pours into the dark room, as the figure yells, 'She's still asleep. A voice answers from below, 'She's just wasting her life in there.' As the door closes, darkness envelops her once more. She feels so frightened. She feels so alone.
She knows that even heros can't save her now. She's on a one-way street. Even in these last moments, she's still looking for special things inside of her. She's only human. She can't hide anymore. She feels like as if she's going crazy. She's in too deep. She can't turn back now.
As the realization that time is running out claims her, she laus down and prays to the God who saved her soul, but has forsaken her. One more time she begs to be taken to a place of acceptance and love.
As the last drops of blood fall to the growing, dark puddle on the floor, she cries even as she doesn't want to do this. She wants to live. She craves life. The last drop runs down her arm, and hangs on her finger-tip. Then, as if in slow motion it suddenly falls, and hits the floor.
Suddenly, as the gentle eyes close for the last time, her dying breath is a prayer for love and forgiveness for this sin. As her last breath is escaping, the sky seems to cry with the rain falling on the earth as one treasure, un-discovered, leaves it's arms... ... ...
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