DKGraphicsandGaming

nothing feels like dying, nothing feels like air escaping from lungs and not being replaced, like a heart slowing nothing. i am only just sixteen and i have made a mistake so big that i will never make one again, the First of June is the tattoo on my grave. ripped skin and smudged eyeliner, blood pouring from my body, i lie twisted in ways limbs should not, the ringing in my ears drowning out the people mouthing questions. what happened? a bike lies feet away from me, the evidence of my misadventure, i remember flying through space into darkness, surrounded by stars - or is that cars? i should be with friends, family, instead i am circle