Like every other day, the night took its own time to come. It felt like I've lived through ten days in one before it even got dark. Saturday is the loudest day of the week.
There's music in every corner you take, a drunk person spilling their guts out and forced conversations. If I had superpowers, I'd put everything and everyone on mute. Silence at last!!
Jozi is known for its heights and noise. Everything built together to drive people insane. I wouldn't mind living in my own little quiet world.
I always feel like I'm living to fulfill someone's purpose. Like a supporting character in a movie. It's like I'm the brigde where the protagonists cross to finally live happily ever after.
I feel powerless living in other people's world. Whatever fate laid out for me, it feels heavy and suffocating. Making other people happy when I am slowly consumed by darkness.
I never thought to concede but now I'm here and all I want is to drop dead. So I bought a razor, cutting deep lines that will surely scar...it stings, I should've drank first.
Was I doing it wrong? I could feel it all, the pain and regret. How do I hide these disgusting lines later? I've never looked pitiful, ever! Not even when I had everything but nothing at all.
A mother who was never present. Not financially physically nor emotionally. People around me who reminded me that I was just a mistake that couldn't be corrected.
I heard someone say once "if you pretend to be something for long, it becomes real." So I pretended to smile even when people stabbed at my heart. I don't know how to stop! Has it become real? Or was I cursed to be numb to the pain?
One thing about the razor, it took all the heaviness in my heart. Even when I smile, it doesn't hurt much. It became a reflex and I'm still deteriorating.
YOU ARE READING
Death,Please.
RandomAll the times I was ready to die. But here I am, still alive. They say what stands in the way, BECOMES the way. Thank you for giving my piece a chance. Let me know what you think on the comments section, Please. -A Twain
