Piece of Paradise.

It's nearly two in the morning, you're all awake. It's been the same for weeks now, you're just there lying on that bed of yours, your pillows are soaked wet, but not in tears, they are tainted red of your blood, and so are your sheets. Your mind is a mess, everything around seems blurry, guess you went too hard on the sleeping pills. You take your phone out, look at the picture of her sleeping which you had captured when things used to be fine, a time long gone, because now she's already moved on. You take the bottle of liquor  out, sweet liquid of the devil which now seems divine, wet your lips and the tears spill out, your voice cracks and you cry out loud. The same question torments you all over again :" Why did you leave me if I used to be right?"

You walk right up to your mirror, look at just how pathetic you are, smile at the mess you have become. Is that really me? A ghastly face, bloodshot pallid eyes and lifeless lips. I look down at the masterpieces I've carved in my arms, memories of the love I have in this weary heart. I take in the calmness of this soothing red stream. And without even thinking I'm at my desk at two, razor blades in my hand cutting through my flesh, it pains a little as the tiny metal piece tear open my skin. I'm at peace, now in a state to think. I take my cigarettes out, on the roof top I smoke and cry, the paroxysm never leaving my side, I talk to the monsters sitting out there in the dark about the face that haunts my nights, cause my insides to ignite with light touches and then set me on a blazing fire ravaging each and every inch of me. With my wrists bleeding, I take my phone out and text you how I feel at night just to realise it is just another waste of time, just like those other text messages which were just delivered but never read. The torment sinks in, my companion cut across again, the swishing sound of the metal on my skin, the sting of pain that causes me to gasp, the coldness of the metal against the warmth of my blood, the smile playing along with the tears rushing down, the burning taste of alcohol down my throat, my heavy head pounding, my heart beating to my ears, I feel my self dozing off, escaping to a place where maybe I belong.

That was my routine now, my little piece of paradise I had so grown used to. I spend my time listening to the sound of your voice, just things I'm glad I had recorded previously, when we used to be fine. Your picture never leaves my hand while I re-read the messages we once sent, for the thousandth time this week. It never was easy giving up on you, I had known that all the while, but I never knew it could be this hard. The high of alcohol long drained, I send you a text :" If I showed up at your door now, would you hug me tight and ask me to stay the night or would you just wave me goodbye? If it were the end now, would you want me back or just wave at me like a passing cloud?" And after such a long wait, the ticks turn to blue. Will I get an answer now? I hope I do.