Short Story Collection | The Concentration of Depression

Short story/a bundle of contradictions

Trigger Warning - High level of profanity












This is really fucked up.


Do you know how I feel when I'm cut, scratched, scraped, burned, cut, bruised, stabbed, and torn?

Do you know that pain of being so terrified that you can't breathe, your eyes turn red, but you can't make a sound because of the maddening certainty that no one can fix this heart that's already broken beyond repair?

When a sticky, contradictory lump of emotion rolls around next to the trash can on the floor, I hold my breath and look in the mirror.

How do you feel when you finally meet your eyes in the mirror?

How are you? How do you feel?

I hope you don't have the same contradiction as me.