To death do us apart or sooner

To death do us apart or sooner

I can hear the children playing on the street outside. I can hear the fan rotating the hot thick air in the room. I can hear she sobbing while she is packing her bags. I can hear my maid cleaning up the glass and her swearing when she cutting herself. I asked her to wear shoes but she never listens. I wish i could hear my thought but they are lost somewhere.

I can hear the maid cleaning my blood from the floor, I am still bleeding and i do not care. I can smell the blood I can feel the blood, i am the blood but it is leaving me along with my feelings. I wish she finish packing soon.

I feel heavy, my thoughts are heavy but the bed lifts me up, the smell from the newly washed sheets give me strength. The children laughter on the streets pushes me on. There is peace of mind somewhere in another room.

I been here before I know this room, I know this feelings, I know how to get here and I know how to avoid getting here so why am i here? What is it the drives humans to this place? What is it that makes us go back for more?

Why does government, media, religions, culture, friend and family push you to this room and when the room falls apart they try to push you back telling you it will be better, really?

To death do us apart or sooner, why not sooner?

iTravel Alone

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