Home
Drafts
Favourites
Prompts
Stories
Community
They/he
R
1 min read
Pain stabs at my brittle bones I trudge through the hellscape Coffee tastes bland Compliments weigh on me like stones There is no escape I am stuck in a barren wasteland A knife to my chest I now take I plunge it in praying I don’t wake
A sharp swift crack The letters halt their unending march Wiped away in a streak of black A line of lead in a sweeping arch