Trich

And only then I remember, I shouldn't but the damage is already done, and the guilt is growing bigger and bigger, as I see it fall, light and thin, to touch the ground... Nothing i can do, but to cry my self to sleep, terrified by this urge, I want to cover my head, so I wont tear. I would beg my self not to do it again, my arms like hell, will force me to. I would love to be the soil under my feet, so bright green grass could grow from me, and no arms from mine would pull it out.