It’s a sunny February afternoon. It’s cold and dry. I can feel the combination piercing into my cheekbone like I’m getting a frostbite. It stings.
It’s a sunny February afternoon.
It’s cold and dry. 
I can feel the combination
piercing into my cheekbone like I’m getting a frostbite. 

It stings. 

 suicide-hurt-greive-mourning-love-raw stories
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lyn
lynCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  4 months ago
It hurts.

It’s a sunny February afternoon. It’s cold and dry. I can feel the combination piercing into my cheekbone like I’m getting a frostbite. It stings.

It’s that kind of cold when you’ve been outside for too long, the meat of your thighs are freezing but your hands are warm.

It’s sunny and you can see when you breath out, The air fogs up. The warmth of the sun lands gently on your face. Its eerily quiet and it’s comforting to hear the snow crunch under your heel.

At this particular moment, I’m running. My mind is lost. I can’t remember my name. I’m in shock.

My heart is pounding. My ears are ringing. My eyes are swollen from crying so hard. The tears have frozen on my lashes. It stings.

My heart is pierced and my mind feels slaughtered by this reality it can’t yet accept.

My lungs burn because I’m running so hard but that’s not the worst pain. My throat is scratched and wounded from crying so loud but that’s not the worst pain. My head is pounding from crying so much but that’s not the worst pain.

I scream to the open sky. I’m sorry, I cry. I’m so sorry, I cry. I didn’t know, I cry. I wish I did more. But it’s too late.

I loved you. Why didn’t you tell me?

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