A simple peace, a simple truth. Something to make me feel at ease. This is what I have been searching for. I believed that Kira's whole-hearted devotion would win this, but it didn't. Just as I believe leaving this wretched hole and living out a separate existence will. But I look down at my arm, prickled with holes and claw marks from panic attacks/bouts of mania, and I am aware that this is simply unattainable.
I'm grasping despirtely to hold on to everything. I can't stand to see it fade, to turn into sand at my fingertips. I can't let it all go. It crumbles and the moment fades. I guess it was all just a dream.
I sit and stair out the window; concrete laced in shadows, green fermenting and beautifully winding up towards a crimson, dying sky. It's so magnificent, yet it dulls and withers in my eyes. I feel as if this overwhelming cold, this rotting shadow, will never lift my head. Poison floats from my eyes, and stings it's way down my pale cheeks. All of it...is so dull and withered...just like me.
I am a just a boy of twenty, and already I feel so lethargic, so anaemic....so old. The clay around me cracks, and reveals what I really am...just a little boy, crying to himself, eyes slammed shut, mumbling his name over and over again as some sort of chant to make myself whole.
My wish to be part of this sterile glycerine is absurd. A foolish want from a lifetime of remorse, a hopeless need from a desperate existence. All I truly want is my paradise, my rauken, my peace. But I understand that it is not mine to obtain. It would cost too much.
I don't want it to end, I really don't. It's all too sad...but all stories must end. This story must reach it's end, no matter how bittersweet it may be.