The truth is that the pain is sharp and never ends. My pain lives in between my third and fourth rib and wriggles into the centers of breath. I am abandoned and alone with a bullet in the chamber. The sun rises on Santa Monica.
Share one of your life's stories
When writing your story, please use correct spelling and grammar. Please use a capital I rather than a lower i, and use apostrophes correctly. Such as I'm, don't, can't.