Bleed

My mind is plagued with pain and suffering. I can’t think of the happiness I once felt without my past creeping up to kill the one dream I’ve always had...Peace. It’s the first day of 2018 and with a new year comes new scars. Literally...I’ve cut myself twenty times. And the worst part about it...I can’t stop. I figured writing about this would help but it doesn’t. Past loves come up with a boiling magma that melts my insides until all I can think about is what to do to end it all. People all around me are happy, living life, fucking like rabbits with no off button...and here I am...a sad guy that no one could give two fucks about. The more I think about being alive on this wretched rock, the more I think about leaving it...the departure would be fast and painless. A shot to the head wouldn’t be felt, I suppose...of course...when I die...if I decide to take my own life, I don’t want it to be slow. I don’t want to suffer more than I already have. I just want it to be over, I don’t want to look back at the people that intentionally hurt me. For now, however, I think I’ll stick to making myself uglier and uglier...no one wants me anyway, and to be honest, the ones that do are always sick in the head...or I feel like they only want to be with me because of pity. Broken is all I am, and there’s no use saying I’m damaged goods...because what part of me is good? Nothing. There’s only this dark part of me that wants to surface. I try to fight it lest I give my poor wretched grandmother a heart attack...but it’s getting to a point now where I couldn’t care less about her. She’s too far gone in the head already and in my opinion, needs to be put out of her misery...but I wouldn’t be the one to do it.

    Now, all I can think about is shedding blood until I get dizzy, until I faint and wake up wondering where the hell I am...who the hell I am. This is not a happy new year. This is just another year. Another chance for people to hurt me, another period of time that goes by with more scars added each and every day, both seen and unseen. All I can think about is letting myself bleed...letting my blood pool beside me and praying that my body goes empty while I close my eyes and pray that the gods take my soul away from this hell. This isn’t the life I wanted, I didn’t ask to be alive...so why the hell am I? Bleed. That’s all I want to do, day in and day out. I’m already emotionally tortured, nothing works. My meds don’t help, I talk to my best friend, I pray to the gods, I try to do right….but in the end, darkness becomes me. Nothing I do will help me escape. I try to forget those that have hurt me, but they always somehow find a way to slither back into my mind like the snakes they are, now I’m filled with poison and all I can do is sit here and wait for this body to stop working.

    I have this razor by my side as I type this, and the last thing on my mind is throwing it away. I try to be happy, I try to smile, but it’s fake. My happiness is fake. Everything I’ve ever laughed about...maybe instead of laughing at a joke, I imagined myself hanging and it brought me joy that I could see my end.