The Day The Birds Never Sang

I have become a prisoner to my thoughts once again.

I slip into the darkness, faster and faster.

My decaying has started again.

Yet this time seems different than the others.

Unrelenting and unstoppable, my inner pain has become a runaway train.

Crumbling inside is my empty soul of hate, cringing in its shame and guilt.

Do I deserve to cry? Would anyone even notice if I did.

I am as hollow as a shotgun blast through the head.

I am not a worthy of having even this horrible life.

Soon I will be thought of as "the bloodstain".

I have decided I am not going to suffer any more.

So I sentenced myself to having my head crushed with the cement truck in the lot.

I rolled under the heavy truck.

Nobody noticed, they never did.

Underneath the truck I am hidden.

Only allowing the crown of my head is visible, with my head centered in front of the back tire.

I heard the driver jump in the truck, then start its diesel engine.

Soon the truck was shifted into gear.

Some people in the parking lot first heard some smothered sounds of my skull crunching under the tire.

Then an alarmingly loud popping noise that echoed off the buildings got everyone's attention.

First my skull crumbled, then the pressure of blood in my head was too great.

Making the skin on top of my head pop and explode like a squashed grape.

Spraying the wet contents of my brain in all directions.

My blood drenched everyone and everything in an thirteen foot radius.

There were globs of brain on every witness in the lot.

Fragments of skull found thirty feet away from the truck.

My body laid lifeless, oozing thick, dark red blood into the many cracks of the cement.

My light brown hair had turned black from the blood.

It's unrecognizable as a head, except that it's partially attached to a body.

Flattened and featureless with only the imprint of the trucks tire track running across it.

Horrifying events that people won't soon forget.

They won't remember me, but they will each have their own memories, of the bloodstain.

Headless, my battered and abused body finally lies still.

If only my thoughts could have .