It's 3:11 in the morning. There are stains of blood on the sheets of paper used for past caring words. Staring at them was a forceful way to make thoughts spill out of an already twisted mind. What to do in such a massacre of random memories, now built up from years, flooding out of the gates kept locked for so long now? No more good remembrance in this mind that's found itself numb all of a sudden. As I stare at the notes written from before, I slowly glance at the object laying beside them. It's the tiniest piece of metal that has ever been able to trespass on the verge of sanity in me. While a # of figures of darkness and random elation now dance in my inner sight, I grab for the thing on my desk which I now call Death's wish. If the feeling I had after a night of explosive thinking didn't go away, I'd have to do it...too soon was I drawn into it's silver caress as it slowly bled in soft, comforting remorse. The droplets of demonic redness now squeezing its way out and becoming the only tears to be shed in years and years. These were the only tears that were shed, long ago. But now it's time to put a stop to the agonizing pressure. Another grab of a fine death sentence then starts to fill the room with racing silence. Just a pattern of the heart beating is heard as the thin steel slices the next virginal victim of flesh. The cuts now scars that went along with a *song* of mesmerizing attack and rhythm...it's just easier.
