Can you feel it?
The dead weight of your legs from the sleeping pills, the dizziness from the alcohol, the soft throbbing of your pulse as blood is pumped out of your wrists?
That's it.
That's what we've been waiting for, that's the quiet comfort.
The beauty of dying.
Isn't it gorgeous?
YOU ARE READING
"Dear Past Me, I'm Sorry.."
Random...for failing you. Just a bunch of poems and quotes, some are mine some aren't. I'll lyk which is which (tw: contains depictions of suicide and depression.)
