Sanctuary [Poetry]

01-27-2021

Warning: might be triggering. I personally don't romanticize suicide, no one should.

there's something elegant about killing oneself.

it all starts inside your head, the thoughts and plans and consequences, everything is laid so chaotically organized.

from the thoughts, your body will come along. your hands will find anything that can hurt you, do anything, and will purposely do things you know isn't good for you. from drinking, to smoking, to being irresponsible, then cutting the skin, punching the wall, drinking sleeping pills—
it's like you're testing the water, familiarizing with the things that hurts and doesn't hurt. it's like trying to know your limit, your certainty, like trying to know if you'll feel something that will make you stop.
and there comes the resolution, your absolute answer.
when you realized what's in your head and what you're doing all this time finally made sense and you know you're ready to leave.

and you're aware that you might regret it, and you know there are those who will carry your burden—you're both guilty and relieved that finally, finally...

there's something elegant about killing oneself—to stop and turned blue...with your own two hands—with consent you didn't ask to anyone but yourself.