Vital life, surrounded by death and evil, tricks me to think that I'm ok, that I'll survive. But you can see the sorrow within my eyes, the lack of self-respect and hope that degrades me to the bones, making me empty inside. Around me, there is only my body's reflection in the mirror but it cannot show my soul, that is grey and overwhelmed by the will of freedom. Freedom, that word that comes to my mind often, making me wish a better life, a way to escape from this nightmare, from this pain. In my dreams, I can see myself go trough the window of hope to the fields of liberty. This emotions fill my black heart as a way to remind my soul the will to fly to freedom.
I'm sick of this, filled with these emotions, that will take me to certain doom, surely something better than this, but a place where my smiles will continue to be fake. My fate is the reflection of the world, so wrong, so empty, so impure. Though I'm not a quitter, I don't want to continue this fight, I can't keep this fire burning. Because I'm a void, I'm a nothing, I'm nothing more than myself. Is that so wrong? Is that lesser than anyone else? But now I'm glad that I told myself to pick the memories from the ground, to start again from the beginning, to redraw my life.
I can't read the words that I wrote her when we were together. But it has helped me realise that a love like that just doesn't disappear like that. It helped me realise that I still love her. But I'm trying to move on. That is over and done, painfully survived and ended in fights and crying. Not for me, not to her, to the Gods that tried to cause my doom. I know that those words will hunt me forever more.
Sitting here, listening to music and thinking of you, thinking of me, thinking of the consequences of my acts. Forever more, maybe into Death, this is me.