mirror pieces

Breathing softly the scent of the burnt leather nearly over whelming his senses. The room swam and blurring as the lighter fluid splashed over the papers, flames licked at the dry places in notebook. Closing his eyes to the flames leaning on the faded plastered walls, a yellowing smoky hue shown in between the shiny white there the paint peeled in long jagged strips.

"Innocence its such a sweet word its such a fragile thing. It brings tears to my eyes to think that I was truly innocent. Its always seemed that I was sick or strange. My pale fingers buried in my wildly dyed hair rocking on the cold floor my breath coming to slow rasping heavy wet sounding choking gasps……… its cool…..... its nothing ,the blood runs down my arms the glittering chrome of the blade laying acrossed. the whiteness of the room. its so cold, its so quiet, its calm now so peaceful. so sweet the rush of it the freedom the softness of the bloodied flesh under my hands smearing the scarlet down my arms. Shivering the cold is back my body shakes and trembles seeking some trace of the warmth ….the bliss."

Fire.. the cleansing flame burning it away. He smiled pressing his fingertips into his temples to ease the dizziness and maddening illness that seemed to be creeping over him as the smell of lighter fluid grew stronger.