5/7/09
My head hurts, throbbing from where I smashed my fist against my right temple. The possible concussion keeps me awake and staring at the shadows splayed across the ceiling.
I conned the crazy out of me, staring off into nowhere, seeking something inside to align and make me right. I tried to cry for so long that eventually I did, tears erupting from my eyes, snot pouring from my nostrils.
Seeing yourself for real, reflected in another's mind, shows you all you need to know. You are a bastard. A hurtful fuck who uses and abuses, hiding in the lie that you care, nice to everyone so they'll make things easier for you. Parasitical satire ignites your entire life.
Suicide escape, break out of the prison of self, your solitary confinement. A blade pressed against skin, a fictional gun against your head, some pills to swallow so you can sleep forever. Nothing matters when you no longer exist. How can it possibly?
Reality is a bitch, and the guilt for being yourself weighs you down, so why not surrender to forever? It'd be nice to give in, not struggle against the dying of the light, embrace the entropic devouring of eternity. You'll make no difference in the end. Fate is destined to happen, so get out of its way.
You beg to be put away and it's for real. Drama queen electro-shock therapy seems reasonable to me. Kill whatever it is inside that wants me to die. Medicate and insulate the pain, sweet release of raindrops tapping at the window.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment