I wish you’d slit my throat for a quick death than to slit my wrists so i can slowly fade away. I’m forced to watch everything happen in slow motion while the life seeps through my veins, watching every inhuman act committed by man or something other than man. I suppose i have to suffer before my blood runs out, but this is torture. I don’t have the strength to fight it while watching you slowly do the same to someone else. I’m breathing heavy and impulsively trying to fight to stay alive. Finish me off quick so I can just die, let me go, set me free, etc. just do something.
half the words you say are true, or all the words you say are true but you try hard to discredit yourself. Why was I fighting for to begin with? I don’t even know anymore, but I do know that either path I chose would’ve bled me dry. Shut off the lights, I don’t want to see anything anymore. Show me the flowers I sent, Show me the sunlight we danced under. show me the glasses with our lip prints we drank out of, show me anything but blood. burn me down if that’s how everything going to start. breath of flame from that look on your face. now i fear that i may taste these tears rolling down my face.
James Bond had this rule. Always have an escape plan. That’s why he is who he is. You were my escape plan, and now my lungs are about to drown along with the screams.