Pennies

The pennies on my eyes lay heavy. The copper is cold and the rough surface soothes my fragile skin that conceals my eyes. Conceals my life... my story.
This bed is comfy. It is built to comfort for eternity and surround my immobile limbs in fabric. Comfort surrounding my body... my legacy.
But this walnut enclosure has yet to be closed and my chest has yet to fall one last time. Yet, I lay concealed and surrounded by the creation of my mind's cravings. My suicidal intentions... my everlasting desires.
The pennies lay heavy on my soul, the walnut binding my being unto itself. The comfort does nothing to soften the crash of my hearse. Knocking hinges loose and my eyes free... my story now to be seen. Now to be... heard.

You already know I know that pain which you speak of. We each have differing reasons for which we feel it when we do. Sometimes it helps to speak those reasons to those who can understand because they too have been or are there with you. If I were to come and stand beside your hearse, hold your hand in mine .. and tell you "I'm here."

Would you rise up and talk with me awhile?

I'd find the strength to.

What would you say? ❤

Silence says enough. It's understanding.

As long as you stay with me - that's all it takes ❤

I'll try. Thanks for being here, Crypts. I'm having a rough night.

I will be here for as long as I am able - and you dont ever need to thank me. Your friendship is enough ❤

Would you like to talk about it?

I sent a message. I appreciate you, fren.

I replied - I type slow at times, sorry.
I appreciate everything you have done for me too, my friend ❤