DISCLAIMER: Viewer Discretion Is Advised. This content is for artwork purposes only. I do not intend to promote the seriousness of mental health issues such as depression and/or suicide. If you are struggling with a mental illness or depression please speak to a professional as soon as possible. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (800-273-8255).
I drop my arm down as I ooze out of my body with a steady pace.
The instance of pain does not outweigh the warmth of letting go.
Gaze into the darkness, yet hope to see a glimpse of light.
The world becomes cold, as I become everything again.
I kick the chair away loud enough for it to echo down the hallway.
I decided not to struggle anymore as I embrace the eclipse of my fate.
I cannot take another step, nor another breath.
I close my eyes and feel everything for the first time in seconds.
I pulled the trigger that made me deaf and numb.
The silence overlaps into infinity as I plummet further.
Falling into the abyss which lovingly embraces me.
They all mourn in false regret.
But I loved you all immensely.
About the Creator
Quaddyy
Content Creator & Writer of Fiction.
Instagram: quaddyy
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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