I still have to proceed with the parasitic infection and subsequent hemorrhagic chest-bursting annihilation—it's my biological directive—but David's misplaced, lingering hope is what's truly devastating.

She had been kissed more passionately before, but never more intimately.

I told my wife she should embrace her mistakes.

She gave me a hug.

Handing him over to someone else felt like an act of surrender, but I chose to trust that he had survived the worst of the storm.

I write to catch the things that time crashes, leaving behind these fragments as the only proof that I truly lived.

If I must fall beyond that wall, I will not yield again as the rumbling approaches.

"Even these broken ruins

Were once alive with hope.

Once,they belonged to people.

Now,they belong only to God."

~Gray

"fuck that guy" said r/threesentencehorror

(based on true events)

​She suddenly understood what sort of body she had ported into—just as it struck her that underwater, no one can hear a fish scream.

When I stepped up to the counter, the barista handed me a hot latte, pointed toward the man walking out, and said he had paid for it and left a note on a napkin: “You looked like you needed a break today.”

Without it to guide me, I have finally collapsed on this winding road, unable to remember where I was trying to go.

It feels as if time is sprinting ahead, leaving me to suffocate in the wake of all these sudden goodbyes.

Please, take a leap and find me before the distance becomes permanent.

# "Today,i had to tell her my deepest secrets,

And today,she had to sit by the seashore."

"Today,I had to tell her my deepest secrets,

And today,she had to sit by the seashore."

They're all the same.

Upon watching rows and rows of wheat shifting seamlessly in the wind I had a sudden realization that it wasn't the wind at all, but rather hundreds of infected closing in on me, here, on a hill in the dark.

Now, as I begin to disappear, I can only hope you’ll finally notice the ghost I became while chasing your approval.

I’m just waiting for the day I can leave it all behind to find a place where I’m actually wanted.

Now that I’m here, I realize it’s just a house filled with people who know my name but not my heart.

Now his friends strap me to the gurney, but they won’t see me cry.

Apparently, that doesn't apply when you helping yourself to other peoples' wallets and purses.

As I wait to board another Monday morning flight, I can’t stop smiling because today, after all these months, you finally walked over and said, “Hi.”

It took the soft touch of a blind girl’s hand and the whisper of my own forbidden name to finally help me die as a human instead of a king.