Waiting.
That is all you are ever going to do in this sick world. And that is all she ever did. She waited for something that would never come. She wanted a miracle, but knew it was impossible. And still she waited because that’s all you can ever do, right? And there, on her purple striped bed, she laid. Curled in a ball, her long fingernails dug into her skin, creating imprints that would never fully disappear. But still, she waited. And it hurt.

He’s gotta get out of this town, He’s gotta escape
He won’t come back, but he knows that he should
He can’t hurt her. Won’t hurt her. Refuses to hurt her.
He hurts her.

Look into his eyes
Where nothing remains
Lost in the sadness
Lost in the pain
He’s trapped here in sighs

Disappeared.

It’s only in my head
Can’t you hear me?
Because I am screaming
Silence.

Waiting.
That’s all you are ever going to do in this sick world. And that is all she ever did. She crawled out of her bed, and pulled herself down the hall and turned the shower on. She undressed herself and looked in the mirror. Naked and motionless. She starred and saw nobody. Nothing. The steam soon covered the mirror. She was gone. Entering the warm shower, the water droplets hit hard onto her back as she collapsed. She dug her head into her knees and sat there on the shower ground as the water hit her back like knives. Her head was pounding, racing, thumping, screaming. Tears strolled from her eyes, but once again she did not realize, as the water and tears mixed together. Lost.

Gone. He finally was.
He had to escape
Because his sadness became
Contagious.

Tears spreading through his face.
Tracks that would fade
But always remain.
Stop the virus.

It wouldn’t stop.
He left her
And tears poured.
Contagious.

Waiting.
That’s all you are ever going to do in this sick world. And that is all she ever did. She knew he was gone forever, unable to come back. All she did was wait for the sadness to die. It wouldn’t ever leave her. She knew that. Pretend? How foolish. And so she slipped back into her night gown, as the morning sun beamed through the window. She sat on her bedroom floor and grabbed her notebook full of happy writings and drafts of her stories that have been published. She grabbed her pencil and tried thinking of a new story, but once again she couldn’t. Writers block. She stabbed her paper with the pencil, as if that notebook was the world she was fighting.

Thoughts. They were running.
His mind going insane.
Dreams. They were gone.
Lost in the world.

This is it.
He can’t keep hurting.
It’ll hurt her.
But she'll move on.

The heavy metal gun.
It was there.
Thoughts joined dreams.
Both were gone.

Lifted. To his head.
Tears slowing gliding.
“I’ll love you forever”
And he vanished.

Waiting.
That’s all you are ever going to do in this sick world. And that is all she ever did. He loved her and he left her. His depression was contagious, even when he was gone. Her love would always be battling her sadness. She threw her notebook. Tore apart all her stories about a happiness that has never existed and never will. Back to her bed she laid. Curled in a ball, her nails re-entered the same imprints on her skin. This time she dug deeper. This time she cried harder. This time she was done. In the corner of her eye she sees her pills on her bedside table. She grabs them. Stop thinking. Stop hurting. Stop breathing.
Waiting.
That’s all you are ever going to do in this sick world. And that is all she ever did. Until finally, the wait took over and she was gone.