(Note:Not in chronological order)
The entire world was so expectant, every cricket, every creaky window was holding it's breath. For me. Maybe. Maybe not, actually. Maybe for the sun. To turn these last moments of thick darkness into a transitory blue, a dewy pink. But it didn't feel like that.
That breath was held for me. For the blade digging into the soft peach flesh of my forearm. For the blade waiting to plunge deeper. To rip through my thick blue veins. To carve a canl up my arm. Longer and deeper so that I could hide myself under the lapping waves of blood, and sink so low that they would never find me.
The world won't go on, won't relax, let it's lungs fill with cool rippling air. Until.
My veins morph into thick ropes that bind me here, so tightly. If only I could break through, break free of their hold. I would be so wonderfully free.I could finally walk without the rattle of my shackles, I could finally dance without the laughter imposed by my chains, maybe I could even learn to fly. All I have to do is hack through these ropes, and hack, and hack ,and hack. Unti the very fibers that create them lie ragged, litter beneath my feet. That's all I have to do