Death

I thought I loved him, but I did not. I loved the idea of him. I wanted the idea of him, I wanted IT.

All I had were my thoughts, but my thoughts were not enough anymore. So I turned on a film to drown the hollow screams in my mind. But no sooner had it started than it began again.

No friend or foe to occupy my thoughts. Just an idea of a man. A perfect man. With brown hair, and soft eyes. As time passed by, it became any man.

The nights became longer. Even when I went out I found I had no story to tell, nor any joke to share.

Then I found a companion, that no eye could see, nor ear could hear, save mine. I felt it in my fingertips. When I closed my eyes at night, I felt it. When people were ending their day, I felt it even more. The loneliness sat with me. Ever my companion but never my friend.

That voice knew the loneliness of my soul. It heard the stories I could tell and the songs I could sing. But it spoke with such rage. It spoke with so rage at me. It condemned me to the deepest deaths of hell and saw no redemption for me. All day and night it spoke to me words unkind but true. It told me of the fate I was to meet. It pointed to the people around me, those who I used to call friend and those who I saw passing by.

It listened as I opened the bottle. It watched me put the pills on my youthful lips. It heard me sigh as I closed my eyes. Laid besides me, and at last became quiet.