Death, be kind. Come knocking at my door. Come fast, be sure, and leave no mess.
For all the times I laughed, when others cried. For all the times I smirked when I heard of the misfortunes of others.
For all the times I stood by, and watched my handiwork wreck other lives.
For all the times I tore hearts out and stamped on them, drummed my fingers as screams rent the air and whistled as sobs and sighs lent the rhythm.
For all the times I played with sentiments and emotions and feelings and trust – things given to me without any expectation, other than that I keep them safe, treasure them, and exalt in them.
For all the bodily and mental hurt I have left in my wake, as I stumbled and rampaged through life.
I’ve gone too far. Done too much harm -- Irreversible harm.
All that was asked of me, was that I make room for some others in my life. All that was expected of me, was unconditional love. All that was desired of me was that I sympathize, empathize, and lend a shoulder when required. All I did, was add to the pain.
Enough.
No more.
Such a failure has no place on this earth.Death, be kind. Come knocking at my door. Come fast, be sure, and leave no mess, if it please you.
1 comment:
Call me a ridiculous optimist, but it's never too late to put a new spin on your life. If you don't like who you are, then don't be that person, be someone better- death isn't the answer.
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