I've been emotionless for days. Lying in a street gutter as maggots chew at my thighs. Time is irrelivent, my eyes frozen on the ever-changing sky. The gawking birds, I once feared, flock around smelling the aroma of my coming condition. I do not scream nor shoo them as I normally do, I no longer fear. For if, as I lay here, they would start to peck at one eye, I would just watch with the other and smile. The pain no longer hurts. I think it is time. My last breath filled with angst. I sigh. Seeing the birds close in, I shut my eyes to die. Slightly feeling the first peck in my right eye.
Reason for writing:
I have manic depression and this is often times how I feel and I also have a fear of birds so that explains my reasoning.
Birth sign: Not entered
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