robotgirl
The carefully structured world was falling apart. Pieces were breaking, breaking and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces along the hardwood floor.
They drifted through her outstretched fingers like water.
With a cry, she reached for the falling world.
She missed.
And then it was gone.
How do you approach a subject like that?
Really, it was almost funny.. In a morbid, self-loathing kind of way. It was like a festering wound, one that won't close and you're not sure how to stitch it up yourself, but you know that if you could, if you would just take that last step... You'd be on your way towards healing.
But some things are better left unsaid.