Paint Your Target.

I spoke to the God. He told me things. He told me a lot of things. Things that I knew that were not true. Things that I knew that were impossible. Things that the Devil had told me otherwise...

As I walk along this lonely path in the darkness, I hear haunting voices that try to scare my mind and lose my focus in wanting to stay alive. I fight back by being deaf to the evil whispers that mysteriously appear in my head. If I am not mistaken, I see you. Each time I turn my head around for I feel there is someone creeping up from behind of me, I feel you. I call out your name, but you choose to be silent. I wait. I just keep on waiting...

So I Thought.

With the gun in my hand, I think about things...

I think bout how happy we used to be. I think bout how you used to make me smile. I think bout how you used to be an angel for me. I think bout how much I used to love you. I think bout the purity we used to share. I think bout the innocence that came with that. I think bout how you used to care for me. I think bout how I used to care for you. I think bout how you promised never to hurt me. I think bout how much that was a lie...

If only the air I exhale can eradicate the immense agony I have in my system, my lungs will not have dried. If only the place I call home is not one bit hellish, I would not have been hurt. If only my heart was whole, I would not have been this empty. If only...

I lie to myself. I live in my own denial. I am my own worst nemesis. I am on the verge of self-destruction. the worst part of it all, I am all alone...

P.S: I MISS HOW WE USED TO BE...