I laid in bed, wondering, how did I get to this point? Missing someone, missing something, I didn’t have very long. Feeling the faint fingertips run over my arms, skin prickling. I closed my eyes as a pair of eyes looked back at me, drowning black as I fell deep. Lips and teeth casually nipping and pulling at me. I reached my hand up for my hair, ruffling it as I turned onto my side, hoping if I changed positions the thoughts would suddenly just disappear.
As the cool heat of the liquid hit my lips, I replay events that continuously flash through my mind. My body barely ached, as a matter of fact, it never does. But I’m constantly putting it through the ringer day in and day out, giving myself this impression that I’m never truly present, a notion that leaves me feeling like I’m always on the run, always on the move. I get so mentally exhausted and run down by these thoughts. But I know it’s no use feeling this way, especially when I’m the only one in my city who can save it. Slamming a guy here, choking another guy there, throwing a car half a football field away from a small child. All of this to just hide away when it’s all over. I whine incessantly, but I know this is the way it has to be. The safest way is for me to coexist with the people who don’t know me, because I’ve seen what happens to those who save others. The one time you let them down they never forget it, and they never forget you for it. It turns into a love-hate relationship, and not one that is back and forth, no. It’s one where half of them love you, and understand, but the other half? You can never make things right again. Never.