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ALT I was strange in love. I couldn’t tell— I couldn’t tell him. I knew, but I was scared. Fyr.

ALT The Final Glass Penned by Fyr (Full text didn’t fit on next photo so I put it here.) You never know desperation ‘til you witness your wits’ end. You never know brokenness ‘til you experience crashing down headfirst on the cold, hard ground of the hellish pits of rock bottom. I never really knew those two things. I never noticed its ghosts silently creeping up on me.

ALT “Let me down one more time.” I said, voice cracking. “Let me down one more fucking time!” I bellowed. The further strains of anguish seeping through my throat punctuated my every word as I chugged the last of the alcohol before hurling it across the room. The sound of it mocked me with a grin as the shards blended in with my broken dreams to make some kind of twisted cocktail. A bitter sneer adorned my lips as I returned the gaze towards the shatterfield—a humorless chuckle was about to escape my throat. But a quiet sob ripped me away from all reality. My attention was drawn towards the last little frame standing on my tiny, almost-empty bedside. It was then I realized: I never knew those two things until I dug the grave too deep. Here it was, staring right at me with eyes blown wide, tears decorating its features; all the while I threatened to twist the knife further, further, further. “Don’t give up on me, too.”