They say time heals all wounds. They say if you just wait it out it'll get better in the end. It hasn't. It didn't. Milo was still waiting for time to heal his wounds but they were still gaping, his heart bleeding out for the world to see.
Every slash directed towards the boys body, every stab and every bruise was still there, even if Milo couldn't see them.
There was also the mental wounds, the ones time hadn't healed for him. Sure, the pain subsided, but they still haunted his thoughts, day in, day out.
The boy didn't know that his thoughts were slowly killing him, he assumed it was normal. Normal for the voices of your demons to keep you awake at night, whispering in your ear their evil plans.
No, Milo thought that was completely normal.
Maybe one day he would let the thoughts take over, let the bruises and the cuts mapping his body set him free.
The wind helped Milo feel free. The rush of the world passing him by, the feeling that all of time and reality was blocked out by the roaring in his ears.
Milo might let go one day. He promised himself long ago that letting go wasn't the way out, but if it wasn't the way out, why did letting go sound better than falling?
Falling is scary. Falling is not knowing where your going to land, only knowing that you're going to land somewhere.
Letting go sounded nicer to Milo. You could chose where you landed, how high you dropped, how fast you went.
Milo wanted to let go of his mind instead of falling, because falling seemed to be the only thing his mind could do.
Letting go meant that the hurting would stop. The bruises and the slashes would fade away until all that was there was the skin of a man trying to hold on.
They say time heals all wounds, so why wasn't it healing his?
So um, I don't really know what this is but I got the urge to write some lore and this happened... Oof