Bad day, remember last night, others may see nothing spectacular. Nothing special. But it was to me. It was a day that turned a good couple of days into a, quite frankly fucked up nightmare.
Not having it. Don’t need them.
The pain, the death, the sorrow the sadness.
Crush my ribs, burst my lungs, take away my last breath.
I am a used, redundant attachment to life.
An empty vessel,
A hollow soul,
A bad mess,
I am the living that has given up living.
An empty shell of…
…not my former self, but any former human.
I am useless, stupid, left, alone, crying, desperate, dead.
This is what happens, when you kill yourself again, and again,
From the inside.
So much that you don’t feel or notice.
Anything but the extreme pain.