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Wishes
She's scared.. Hurt. She cannot bare her own thoughts that are threatening her poor heart. She can't help but think of what was, and what might never be. Her heart aches. For he is the only soul that could ease her troubled mind. Insecurities bounce around in the hole of her chest. Her heart? Shattered. Just like the vase that once homed blood red roses he got for her, many many months ago. Their peddles, crinkled up and dead surrounding where she stands. She can't seem to let him go, wherever she goes, he is. Either physically or mentally. A constant reminder of what once was.. Now is lost. Just like her conscience. She wishes nothing more than to lay in his warm embrace. Where nothing else mattered, no one else exists. She fiddles with the pills in hand, staring into her broken reflection. Her dark make up is smeared all around her eyes, looking as a black bird. Her tears dragged the gel eye liner down her red cheeks like a ball point pen. She wishes for nothing more than to drop dead. Her lifeless body to collapse onto the cold, checkered floor. One pill for each promise he made? 22. One pill for each time he looked her dead in the eyes and lied? Countless.
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I battle depression and have been in circumstances where I wish I wasn't alive. I'm okay now, but this piece was written when I was dumped by someone I cared unconditionally for. And these were my feelings, 22 was the date we were together. It's basically supposed to tie together.