God, did I want her. Her eyes were infecting my judgment; her voice my end. Every time I touched her, it was pure bliss. It was as if all of the souls I had sent away were forgiving me, their silence a sign of their content. "Max." I could hear her beckoning me. Her lips opening for that brief second.
Mona. You ruined me. The mixture of every bullet and pill could never equal the disillusionment you bestowed. "What do you want from me?" The most beautiful broken record I've ever been haunted by.
It was all over. Jim had taken me off the force, claiming I had gone insane. Not an entirely fictional explanation. Now the only entity that wouldn't judge me was death. I couldn't stand the searing guilt I was enveloped in constantly.
So I now stand; my legs shaking with all the years of death and betrayal. I look down at the slow moving vignette of cars and drug dealers. I stare at the spectacle of the corrupted ants. Oh, New York; you took so much from me. The only thing left is my heart. You won't find much.
