May be a tad gruesome. About the choice someone has to make at the most important time of their lives

1. Choices

Here I am then,
 sitting on the side.
I don't quite Know what to do,
Do I go back or do I go forwards?
Towards hell or towards pain?
But isn't that the same?
Should hell not be pain?
Should pain not make your life hell?

It doesn't matter now,
Ive decided what I want to do, 
I think the blanket of concrete is more welcoming then life has ever been for me.
Just imagine, when its over.
I would of decorated the hard floor with the red of the damned.
The red of the beautiful.
The red of the lost people.

I would land and for that small second I would feel pain,
Pain as my legs crush beneath me,
Pain as all my bones protrude and pierce threw my skin,
 Making me look like a pin cushion in need of cleaning,
Pain as my head hurtles down on my neck,
Pain as it crushes all the bones and veins that get in the way
Pain as this causes me to bleed all over,
Pain as my head hits the ground,
Pain as it explodes on impact like a blood soaked bomb.
Pain as the goblets of brain, blood and fluid fly out and splatter everything.
I would lie there with only seconds to feel the pain,
Seconds to feel the agony, the little spikes of torture shooting through my nerves,
And then I would be dead.
The sweet nothingness of death.

So here I am now,
Sitting on this ledge,
I've made up my mind.
I choose the sweet nothingness
 over the eternal persecution of life.
I choose the sugar coated pain.

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