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I feel like I can't write anymore. I want to but I can't. I try and I try and I try.

But it doesn't come out right. I stumble in my words and they don't seem to fit in their place. The sentences seem awkward and I the order of words seems like a mystery to me. They won't work with me, no matter how hard I try. The frustration inside of me just grows. I want to write so badly. But there's nothing that would feel right. I come up with a sentence. Another. Write a ten more and yet they don't seem connected. 

In the end I just close the document, sigh quietly and hope that tomorrow it would be better.

It never is.

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”You aren’t anything. Did you hear me? You’re nothing! Nothing!”

The memory echoed through his mind, hurt deep inside in places you’d think that pain was impossibility in. But it hurt. The pain radiated through his mind, into his veins and to his body. It consumed him alive, ate away everything else until there was nothing but hurt left. Chest was the worst. His hands pressed against it, fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt as if trying to pull away the pressuring feeling that made it hard to breathe. Where his heart was supposed to be was a black hole, all lost into its darkness.

It felt like his body was slowly crumbling into pieces. Falling apart. 

He didn’t have the power to hold it together anymore. 

His body felt heavy. It was almost like he was falling. Downwards, downwards, always just downwards. Pain was cast aside, slowly the numbness filled every cell of his body and nothing mattered anymore. All was dark, he couldn’t see and he just kept falling.

His world had burnt to ashes so long ago, maybe it was time for him to accompany it. 

Maybe this was planned all along.