simon
it's the day before new years eve.
we argued today.
he told me i cared more for 'those bloody cigarettes' than him.
he was right.
i can't breathe without them.
they make me happy
but even if i explained that, he wouldn't understand.
it broke me seeing him leave. i might not have loved him in the same way as i once did, but he was, and is still, my best friend.
and now he's gone. just like everyone who once loved me, gone.
'my life is shit because i deserve it, right?'
those were the thoughts running through my head when the silver blade met my scarred wrists.
as i watched my arms being drenched in red, i took a cigarette out of the package and lit it.
and my already damaged lungs filled with grey.