White Noise

It was either extremely hot, or dastardly cold. There was never a cool medium in my life. Never a dull moment, never an end to the noise. That crystal white noise blaring in my ears day after day. Never an end to the sharp silence that cuts me right before I take my last breath.

Yet still, here I am. Attempting to drown out the noise, by grabbing it by its neck and submerging it in stagnant water, the stench of forbidden clarity sulking its way into my nose. Tip toeing around my brain, stumbling over rotten skeletons and red blood cells.

My body grows weak with the constant battle between whether to choke or let go, so I opt to sleep, to run away from my problems, just to wake up to avoid their eyes everytime they gaze at me, constantly shoving questions and 'what if' hypotheticals down my throat, I want none of the options they give me. Every waking moment, I spent over the toilet puking up possibilities for the future. They simply just did not sit right with me.

As I lay here, after walking for miles, writing an endless tale of a sad girl with little to no will, with a deafening silence as my spinal cord cracks open, allowing my guts to spill out for all to see, to gawk at as I continue to lay in the very waters that will do everything but the very few things I wished it could do.

My feet crack and blister as I reach out into the abyss screaming, crying for a sign, a sign to zip my spine up and let go and float over to the end of the pond I reside in, as dead as can be and sink down into the world that unfolds beneath me.

To finally drown out the smell of rotting flesh, to drown out the clairity, to drown out the pathetic thought of myself white knuckle gripping onto the edge of a sentence that was the final blow to my head.

This was a wish that was far too unattainable to bear. This was an urge I could no longer fulfill.

So instead, here I will lay. In stagnant water, as parasites grip and gnaw at my skin, eating me alive, bloody flesh infiltrating the water below.

I've been blinded by a shattered truth, by nothing but an unspoken rule. My bleeding lips open as I begin to mouth a plea for life, but it is then that I remember, my sheer empty will is what brought me to these waters.

So I shut my mouth, laying nice and pretty while the cool wind sews my mouth shut with periwinkle twine.

At this moment, I swore in my head that nothing would change from now till the end of me. That I'd lay here in stagnant water, being eaten alive, silently.

Everything was as stagnant as these waters, with the same stench I smelt every waking moment, the same pain, the same sound. Years and years, everything began to blur. There was nothing left, just an empty sack of maggots for a brain, crawling out of my ears to whisper to me.

Looking up to the orange and pink sky above, with beautifully painted clouds hanging by a noose, five crows swing around in circles, fighting amongst themselves. I'll be their next dinner tonight. Under the brightest of stars they'll pluck out my eyes and feast on my parasite infected skin, how romantic.

The last thing I will ever see, before I close my eyes for good, before I bleed out, before that white noise comes to cut my jugular, is a feral hawk, swooping down to latch onto one of the crows, ripping it to pieces as the others fly away, crimson droplets spray along the skylines, a singular droplet landing into the palm of my hand. Right before I close my eyes, the hawk makes a V straight for me, straight for my exposed chest, with a triple skipping heartbeat, faltering as the clock ticks, as the world starts a countdown for the end of my life.

I finally shut my eyes, as the white noise creeps up, drowning out the hawks screams, as I finally go limp, and float to the end.

Silence.