Killing myself, again and again.

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.
I do,
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.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s