Speaking in tongues

The pain

The pain had hit him like a car, ran him over fast, then never looked back. Everyday it hurt more and more for him to think, so one day, he just gave up.

The daggers pierced through even the toughest of skins. Nobody knew how to outrun their own demons that had just been placed in front of them.

Glass shattered to millions of pieces, and if stepped on enough, turned into sand. But their souls didn't need the pieces to be stepped on in order for them to replicate the tiny specks you see at beaches.

Such sorrow gathered in one place, all because of one person. The hearts of everyone seeped to the ground and buried themselves with their lost friend, the one who had stopped fighting.

One that is skillful can break a person so much that they never turn back. And you get broken in two ways, you give up and sacrifice yourself to death, or to revenge. There is no in between, you either kill yourself, or others before you and don't turn back when you put the barrel in your mouth to escape living with the pain you have caused others.

Knowing that her blood was on their hands, they tried everyday to bleach them. When it wasn't enough they understood the affect words had. It wasn't just a "I was only kidding!" Anymore. She was gone, and they knew it was all their faults.

How does one keep living when someone they know, and love, dies? How does one cope with the "oh I really need to tell--- never mind." ? How does one simply keep walking down the road that leads to one place, and one place only, death?