MadManWithaBox
July 18th, 2010, 07:54 PM
Times up.
The games over.
Time to go.
Time to leave this physical existence.
The pain.
The cold biting wind stinging my face in the december morning.
The drops of rain trickling down my face.
The pain of the fire.
The pain in your chest.
The pain in your gut when something happens you can't control, or change.
You have to walk away, turn away from it. Not being able to looks back, out of fear of... never being able to stop looking.
Not many people get to choose their own method of dying. Given the choice. I imagine people would choose, the noble route. Dying to save a loved one, a friend. But this isn't. This is cowardly by comparison. I'm my own worst enemy. My own judge, jury, and.... executioner.
Its over, its time. Time to leave the dew coated grass and the brisk air. The walk to my own death is much harder than I imagined.
I stop. I'm here. My heart beating what feels like a million times a minute. Tears streaming down my face. Fuck. I didn't mean for this. I didn't want it. Still. The job has to be done. I press the Barrel of the gun to my head.I begin to pull the trigger. My last thought? I love y....................
The games over.
Time to go.
Time to leave this physical existence.
The pain.
The cold biting wind stinging my face in the december morning.
The drops of rain trickling down my face.
The pain of the fire.
The pain in your chest.
The pain in your gut when something happens you can't control, or change.
You have to walk away, turn away from it. Not being able to looks back, out of fear of... never being able to stop looking.
Not many people get to choose their own method of dying. Given the choice. I imagine people would choose, the noble route. Dying to save a loved one, a friend. But this isn't. This is cowardly by comparison. I'm my own worst enemy. My own judge, jury, and.... executioner.
Its over, its time. Time to leave the dew coated grass and the brisk air. The walk to my own death is much harder than I imagined.
I stop. I'm here. My heart beating what feels like a million times a minute. Tears streaming down my face. Fuck. I didn't mean for this. I didn't want it. Still. The job has to be done. I press the Barrel of the gun to my head.I begin to pull the trigger. My last thought? I love y....................