I want it, I want to try it again a thousand times before I even think about him having to go through it. Being the reason for his tears is like a thousand stakes driven into my heart.
I try, I keep trying a thousand times to reason my mind not to commit the greater sin of death itself warned between the chilling desires to throw me away forever in the inert doubt of whether there is any reason not to.
I don't want, for nothing I want to one day open that door to find myself with dull eyes looking at the empty ceiling trying to hold on to the infinite sky that I have abandoned as I did with him.
It scares me, not more like panic, to think that even in hell my mind is tortured with thoughts, nothing worse than a dead person with things to do.
I fear, that these words will reach you like the torturous memories I want to avoid you to have, so that you remember me only as you saw me, as only you loved me those days.
It hurts, quite a lot to know that I'm leaving, letting myself go through life in the same way I expected to be looked at, struggling, letting myself be guided by what you so vociferously, even continue to ignore when you once slandered.
Quick, try to cover that wound that I myself have opened with their hallway whispers, the enemy has tempted me and he himself is up there while I am hanging on by a thread.
Do you hear me, or am I also invisible to you?