Salty tears sting at my face. I’m drowning, falling, dying

and I’m glad.

The sun shines down on my fragile body. It burns. I long for the chill of night, of apathy,

of death

because when it’s cold I don’t have to think feel see care

I wonder what it feels like to die. I smile at the thought.

But then a boot crunches down, and my moment of psuedo-happiness vanishes, swept away by the

callous

cruelty

that is humanity.

Tears. They streak down my face. The world blurs. And I wonder if the salt is killing me too. Just like everything else.

My life should have been beautiful. I wonder where that beauty has gone. The stars? I look up into the night. But the smoke clouds the sky.

I am starless, heartless, hopeless. Everything but the one thing I want to be.

Gone.

...Then a warm hand gently touches my cheek. And this casual touch brings safety, remembrance of a world I’d left behind. Hope fights to fill the gaping emptiness inside.

But it’s too late.

And it’s not enough.

The scars will never heal.