This scar hurts. Even the slightest contact with any elements trigger a sharp pain.

The excruciating sting that lingers for months, despite medication and protection.

My strength is dropping. I am no longer as strong as I thought. Perhaps I never had such a deep cut before. I need anaesthetic. Liquor, games, money. Money can buy me happiness. If happiness means being away from disappointments and sorrows. I don't want history to repeat. I don't want to be crying myself to sleep every night. I am out of tears. Out of breath. Desperately gasping for love and protection. A big hand that can pull me up from this hole. I crave for a hug so warm that my cold icy heart will melt. I crave for The Love. That love that you showered a demure-looking lady that was assumably chaste. One that is unconditional and true from the heart. I am a girl too. Once demure and chaste. I was weak.

Weak. It hurts. Hurts more to be strong. For I no longer need protection and care in many others' eyes. I was forced to be strong, because I was weak. The world is unfair. So are you. Yet there are some that are fair, just not to me. A pity that I am not blessed with them. 

Tears of sadness are meant to be hidden, just like thunderstorms. Tears of joy are meant to be seen just like a rainbow under the clear blue sky. Me? I just want a clear blue sky. The desire to let go of everything and let my soul ascends into nothingness. Nothingness. No noise. No pain. Empty. Clear. What a relief.

Quietness. That's music to my ear. Alone. Free from expectations. Free from disappointments. Just let me lie down and enjoy this neverending music. Just let me lie down and fall into this neverending hole. This neverending... is the end of something.