Untitled

It's six o'clock in the morning. Outside, the world seems still.

Inside, it's a different story. My life races as quickly as my heart, each trying 

desperately to outrun each other. The

question is: which one will win?

The answer is simple.

Always let the heart win.

My heart aches with exhaustion,

my heart aches with betrayal

my heart aches with emptiness

my mind aches with the inability to remember why my heart aches at all,

let alone over what or whom

Reflection

He stood there, looking at himself in the mirror

his dark wet hair hung over his face like a damp, mouldy black curtain

he pulled it back to reveal his face, pale and ashen

he felt the heat of his sin sting at his cheeks as if he were being cremated

..or even worse, singed in purgatory

he held the knife against his wrist, tensing...trying to find the courage to sink

in the blade

..finally the courage of life left him, ..

..while the courage of death found him

and he found himself watching with fascination as the first drop of blood

splattered against the pale porcelain of the sink

..as a few more drops fell,... Michael too fell..

from the ceiling of heaven..

..to the basement of hell

..along with him fell more drops of blood..

that shattered onto the floor

like crimson beads of pain