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to hurt, and to not hurt. to be able to choose between how one must hurt, or to choose never to feel the pain again.
so irrational. so unpredictable, the way these emotions are. the scorching pain that runs through every bone, every cell and every vein. and it doesn't matter whether i am alive or not; whether my heart is still pulsing, contracting within my ribcage. because with every second beat, the viscous blood carries that, my, your, warmth, such thing that shelters what i have left to heal myself with. whether i still have tears to cry, each drop, each gem, a vessel of memories reflected, before seeping through the atoms of air, crashing and colliding with a billion per second.
then it is forgotten by all who was there to witness both its birth and ruin.
