It sucks to be me. All along, I thought it's over. I thought I'm done with tears, with pain, with thoughts of parting. Then, it all comes back rushing like a bullet in my brain. My world suddenly stopped, all lights gone dim. I am pushed in the corner, with no room to spare. I tried to scream, no voice won't come out, no one will listen. Can't close my eyes, forced to see the darkness, the darkness that consumes me. In here is the smell of suffering, of fear, of hopelessness. It stinks so bad, death smells salvation.
As I stay here, ghosts keep coming. Bringing memories as they come, leaving behind scars as they go. Those memories they bring, I'll never forget them. They're as beautiful as roses but as dreadful as thorns. Those memories, no matter how wonderful they are, they're no more than blunt knives that slowly cuts through my flesh, reminding me of the past and the future that doesn't exist. In this small and dark corner, light won't shine, life won't come. Abandoned by hope. Feasted on by pain.

