Ficly

Sickness

Inside your perfect pale body, you are sick. Inside your mind, you are sick. Inside your soul, you are sick. This ugly black sickness has become inevitably a part of you; this unreal disease is dominate over the beautiful person you once were. The misery that comforts me while knowing how fast you are dying internally is not warm enough to heat my dead blood; perhaps I will freeze to death and leave you to suffer in your own pity, for I cannot continue to be tortured by everything that is rotting inside you.

Eventhough it might seem easier to waste away because of this love for you that enslaves me, I must live; furthermore, I do not wish to die with you, but you will always have that piece of me that you ripped mercilessly from me. As I continue to watch you drown, a poignant reality floods over me, and I now know that I cannot help you no matter how much I love you, so I must leave; I will not watch you die.

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