Words of Silence | Poetry / Rants

Yet again

So, we meet again. This was inevitable. The pain. The blood. It was only a matter of time before I turned to this again. I'm such a fucking mess. But I can't show him. I can't show them. I don't know. I just - I should go. I want to curl up in a ball and die. Cold. Alone. In pain. I-I...I need it. My little razor. Please. Please just let me die. I can't do this anymore. Any of it. My life is so fucking fortunate but I'm a monster. I keep hurting people. Myself included. Maybe I've been an open book this whole time. Maybe everyone could see these disgusting scars. I'm such a fucking selfish asshole. I deserve to die. I think I always have. Why did you do this? Put me here? On this world to watch me suffer! Do you enjoy watching me tear myself apart? God I want to scream. But I'm done. I'm done begging you for answers. I hate bothering people. That's why I never go to ask for help. Or maybe I just enjoy the suffering. Maybe both. My body is littered with scars. They follow me everywhere, the shadows. They poison me. I don't want to get better. I want it to get worse. I want it to kill me, slowly. This is what I deserve. It's okay though. I'm almost there. The end draws near. I won't fret away this time. I won't let anything or anyone stop me. I have a new razor. Stronger. Sharper. More dangerous. Hopefully it kills me. No. Hope is for the foolish. I will do this. I don't need to rely on hope when I can carry this out myself. So I will sit here. Crying and bleeding. Waiting for my end to come.

And for anyone reading this, I guess I'll see you in hell.