Writing Feedback / The frantic beat of a broken heart [4]

Remember when you attempted to keep your eyes wide open? Or when your whole body was drunk with fatigue after a hard day's work? Or when your bony white hands, blood frozen by the bitter winter frost? Or when your brain wanted to give in, to remain in the lapses of sleep that kept you drifting in and out of? Remember when you took a fleeting look outside, the weather beaten road looking everlasting. There were rows of mud that appeared lifeless with their menacing razor-sharp thorns in the harsh winters. And the clock, the clock hanging above your head illuminated on the mirror in front of your face, stating 3:00 am. Another sleepless night, another bugging thoughts that keep dominating within you. Your freezy hands was placed above your mouth as you heard a soothing harmonic love song, a tear escaped from your lilac eye, a forbidding sob dripped that made you choked by preventing it. You cursed yourself praying that you hadn't broken down. You reached for a razor and your joints started squeaking like an old geriatric patient climbing out of a hospital bed for the first time. You let out a dark shrill scream, a smell of leaking rust filled the atmosphere. Then you see blood flowing from your wrist. All you can hear were screams, then everything was quiet, it was an eerie feeling. The howling weeps had ceased and the only noise that penetrated your ear drums was the frantic beating of a racing heart beginning to stop.