I'm tired of looking at his pictures... well I should be tired of looking at them anyway. I just tired in general I guess. I should probably go to bed.
Goodnight,
Christopher
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Crying Inside of Me
Ache
He’s lying in the farthest corner of my mind, picking the petals from a rose and letting them fall to the floor. Looking up when I enter the room, he acts as if it’s his home and not mine. I should consider the idea that maybe it has become his, but am too tired from the emotional struggles of the day to even remember his name.
I Stumble backwards onto the floor and wrap my arms around myself. He looks at me, wondering to himself and I why I still put up with the world. Let me out, he calls from the corner, quiet as a snake moving through sand. I consider sighing at the thought that he’s the only one in the universe to know how badly I truly want to, how badly I truly want to give into the monster, but instead shake my head. Maybe tomorrow, I whisper to him through my eyes. Maybe tomorrow…
Come on Nightmare, it's time for bed.
Forever Here
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