Black streams of mascara stain my cheeks as my tears move freely down my face, dripping from my chin, coating my shirt with its salty substance.
The power of my lungs stop abrubtly, leaving me breathless.
I raise my hands to come in sight, noticing the violent and irrepressible shaking of them.
I scream in agony and heartache, my tears continue to descend from my eyes.
I cannot be heard by anyone.
I no longer feel the need to live.
I reach for the shinning piece of keen metal to my right.
I take it in my quivering hands, still weeping in pain.
I trace the cold metal along my wrists, causing no damage for the time being.
I reach the vein in my wrist, piercing the razor in my skin and dragging it all across the soft surface of my arm, causing the warm red luiquid to poor from the stinging wound, coating my legs with blood.
I scream in pain, but my sobs slowly quiet as I breathe slowly, smiling at the relief of pain caused by my heart.
I close my eyes, letting my body fall to the ground.
All is silent other than the quiet sobs that escape my mouth.
My cheeks dry, leaving sticky trails of mascara down my face.
All that is left is for me to lay silent, feeling the pain of my heart clenching, breaking and disintegrating into oblivion...
Along with what was left of me.
And that was the excruciating pain of miseries end.
