My sweet little Jinnie

Dumb Baby, Run

Just another pretty face. Another body to salivate over. A cover photo. An image. Nothing more.

He waved. Smiled for the camera. Tears would prick behind his eyelids. Regardless he laughed. Stared into the lense. Stared into the mirror.

Just stares.

Stares at himself.

He fades.

He's dumb, stupid.

He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to run.

Wants him mind to go blank, his body to go cold, his blood to go black in his veins.

He lets his hands fall limp, too afraid to touch what doesn't belong to him, his eyes well up with tears, a silent cry catching in his throat, too afraid to let it fall from his lips, too afraid to run, too afraid to think.

His body sprawled against the cold concrete, his breath comes in shallow inhales, leaves his lungs in small puffs of air.

He wishes he wasn't so useless, wishes his mind wasn't so blank, wishes his blood ran red through his veins. He's not even living, only existing in a world where there are machines, where no human exists, where his blood pumps gas, pumps adrenaline, pumps nothing.

His lips wobble, small streaks of blood run down his wrists, small little stains of red smearing across his cheeks. Tears mixing with murky black.

Slowly his eyes turn cold, the shine within them slowly fading, slowly his world turns into fog, into a thick cloud of mist. His body limp, tears drying against his skin, he only wishes he had said goodbye, had said he was sorry. Now he'll never be able to exchange another plead, another excuse, another apology. His lips fade from pink to blue. The tips of his fingers transitioning into a pasty white.

He had wishes he apologized for everything.

So many nights left alone.

So many nights left crying.

So many nights left apologizing.

So many nights left loving,

He wishes he had done it all.

Had been better for them.

For himself.

Wish he had looked in the mirror. Loved himself for what he was worth. For what he meant to exist. Had appreciated what he was, and what he will leave behind in a hollow shell.

But he just couldn't.

It would have been fake.

Fake love.

He was stupid enough to think he could change. Change for him. Changed for the man in the mirror looking back at him with those eyes full of hate. Could have changed to be better for him. But it wasn't enough. He had changed what he was. Changed what he had. And he lost himself on the way.

Now he fades, fades into black. Fades into white. Fades into red.

He wished he could keep a piece of him, of the man who stared back with a plead in his eyes. The man with a tremble in his body. Tears in his eyes.

Wish he had challenged the one he so desperately wanted to satisfy.

Wishes he had called out his name. Clawed his way back.

He had grown a seed of love that couldn't have bloomed.

Not in real life.

Not even in his own dreams.

He had wished he was good enough for himself.

To love himself.

Now it'll all fade.

Into a cloud of smoke.

A cloud of gray.

Blank.

His mind was white.

His lips cold.

His mouth blue.

Nothing left.

Just an empty body. No blood. No tears. No cries left behind.

Just snow. Just air.

It was...

Perfect.