In A World Without Love, This Is

Each Step Is More Difficult Than The Last; The Heaviness Fills Me And Turns My Limbs To Stone. You Must Hurt Or Be Hurt.

There Is No Before. There Is Only Now, And What Comes Next.

Stupid How The Mind Will Try To Distract Itself.

An Itchy Feeling Began To Work Its Way Through My Body, As Though A Thousand Mosquitoes Were Circulating Through My Blood, Biting Me From The Inside, Making Me Want To Scream, Jump, Squirm. I Ran.

Things Change After You Die, Though, I Guess Because Dying Is The Loneliest Thing You Can Do.