Sending out a message:
To the world.
It’s my fault.
I look at my life and all I see is messy and broken.
It angers you.
It sickens you.
It defeats me.
This is not a cry for help for myself, but for you.
There is only one solution, and it will only anger you further.
I am bad for you.
Disastrous for the kids.
If I could go back, I would have run away.
Away from you.
From everything and everyone.
But now I’m here.
Ruining everything and everyone.
Prolong the agony, or end the pain?
Flip a coin.
Words silence the screams.
They draw life out like a leech.
They hold something magical and powerful, yet it’s not enough.
We’ve had enough.