I feel like something in me has died, something precious. Something that requires no mention yet is the reason why one breath of mine followed another. The thoughts, the love, the fights, the words, and the emotions; all have died a slow painful death inside me. All that is left behind is me, trying to remember to breathe as life still continues to flow through me, even though I ceased to exist the moment I let go of the hope and the desire. I let go of the final flower that symbolized my love. The final piece of the puzzle has fallen off to the ground, I am to remain incomplete forever.
Written as a part of Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Susan Spaulding. The challenge is to write a story in 200 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more details visit HERE. To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.