Bump On The Wrist

The endurance of purpose can bleed through blurry lines. For there was once a man who did things with the illusion of honor, now could be fighting with pain. Is there a hero or just a shadow of someone to hide behind? 

These thoughts ran through Andrew's head as he witnessed his wrist bleed down the drain. 

What is a representation of life? In the end, just being energy wasted by this earth. Someone with purpose doesn't live with the world's sadness deep in their heart or mind. Trying to connect with others, becoming a companion, or even a familiar person.

Andrew, looking at himself through the mirror, notices the pain he is in. Could see his eyes race at the speed of his mind. "Ground yourself, Andrew!" That is all he can scream in his head. 

It is easy to think in pain and not recognize the physical decay that comes from it. Making mistakes with tricky words is easy, and others can take you at face value. How can anyone understand the crying man inside? 

Andrew draws a smile at himself, laughing off the pain that is sweeping him over. Slowly he reaches out for the towel, just so he can apply enough pressure to survive this day.

How can someone be so weak, cannot see things through, even your own life. There isn't anything left with someone who isn't worth the dirt they walk on.

"My day is coming." 



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