red walls

Written by sam

i can feel my grip slipping...
on life.
on the rope that's carrying everything i care about,
everything that means anything,
my values,
my reasons.
everything is just falling apart.
i need to find some *ing stability before i let go of the damn rope completely and i fall to the ground from 250 feet in the air and stop breathing...
it's finally over.
my blood would leak and my heart would stop and i'd be just another casualty.
just another one of those teenagers taken to the morgue, identified, then tossed in a body bag and cremated so there could be something,
some piece of me lasting that they could scream at.
the blood on the sidewalk would wash away and people would forget and i'd have achieved nothing.
but i'd be happy.
insanity could be an escape?