Pain. It is all I ever feel. Pain. It stops me from sleeping at night. Pain. It is the thing that makes me cry. It hurts so much. I lie back onto the soft mushy sand letting it get into my clothes and my hair. I don't care. The sky is grey filled with pollution fumes. The stench is strong. The sound of birds in the distance gets louder and louder each time.
"Hmmmmm" I roll on my left side and and face the trees. It is hard to let go of the past. Too hard. I can never let go. I don't want to let go. I never want to forget.
It is at night when the pain is to much. It wakes me and makes me remember who I was. I'm addicted. I love the pain too much. I always want it there. I know that there will be a day in the future where I will meet my parents. And I count down the days to that moment.
I sometimes think about taking my own life. But when I pick up the knife, I can never bring myself to do anything. So, I can only wait til I die of old age. I pray that the years will rush by.