Detail: I try my best to play around with all different kinds of writing. This is the first-person narrative that I have in my possession.

       Tears are burning down the side of my face as the night sky dances. Stars slowly pass by in their lifespan. The spark of life was billions of years ago, and now my eyes get to witness such beauty. Away from the noise of passing cars. Away from the little lies that are whispered among friends and family. No one knew me, and no one will ever know who I once was. The past, present, and future all have points to be made, but only the choice I make now will have any point. The blade was clenched between my palm and fingers, testifying to that. The mindset to outgrow such fears is a testament to the paces of life, but even I couldn’t uphold those endeavors. My eyes shifted to the shine of the blade within the moon’s light. Its beauty of color filled the centers of my inner vision. If only I could see the value in that. All dark color mediums captured the fools in the deepest caves. It’s cold, frosted hands that engraved its nails within the flesh. In that moment of thought, a droplet of liquid pouring from my eyes landed neatly on the blade. It splattered across the color palette. I close my eyes. I shifted the blade onto the surface of my skin. I ran back once. Another for fun. A trio of greed for a third. I reopened my eyes to uncover the mess I had created. What a shame.

        In an instant, I lost it all. The joy of having my own. Flesh and blood. The warmth that was created between two bodies. The aroma of sweet, creamy smiles. In an instant. I was found and, in another, lost. The world plays a harsh remedy sometimes. Fill up someone’s cup too full, and the strings become loose, as joy is that of a fairy tale. Skin and bones, I became as my mind decayed, the world. Sounds became distant and sights dull. My only friend was this blade, now covered with my fluid. Red was always my favorite color. A tone of strength and anger. Perhaps that’s where my mind was. A state of never-ending anger. If only I could save her. Drop the speed. Pull the wheel far to the left. Perhaps. She could be breathing.

But.
In the end.
I’ll be with her.
Again.