yes to heaven - xiaoven ↲⠀✔️⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀

i. death is sweeter than honey

xiao
—

nothing is left,
for me to love.
nothing is left,
to convince me to love.
my voice doesn't come out.
the notepad heeds my words.

honey is sweet to taste,
a lovely break 
from the bitter reaches of reality.
but death,
the eternal sleep,
it seems sweeter.

the bridge,
which calls my name,
is only a few blocks away.
just a some hundred steps,
and there it will be.
telling me,
that i must die.

my writing comes in blocks.
it doesn't seem right,
in normal sentences.
instead, like me,
it is erratic,
and unstable.

my time has come.
to taste that
which is sweeter than honey.
life offers nothing of value.
instead,
it turns its' blind eyes,
away from me.

—xiao
[the lowly]

i sign off the page. my beloved notebook will fall into the murky waters along with my useless existence. it has endured me for the last four years. it will finally be able to resign of its' tiresome job. no longer will my tears drench the flimsy paper, or my sharp pencil stab through its innocent pages.

newton's third law states that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. in simpler terms, stating that whatever mistakes you make will be retributed. but what mistake did i make? yes, like all humans, i made those trivial slip-ups, brought home an F. so universe, what are you avenging by torturing me?

was my innocence not enough? those useless parents who failed their roles terribly? is this revenge for me being the product of my parents failures? those weeks where food didn't enter my belly, because of that women named mother? when i was so hungry that my stomach cried louder than i did? was it not enough payment?

am i really just another toy?

all children give up their toys eventually. so you too, universe, give me up to the heavens so i don't suffer your ruthlessness anymore. let me be another servant in the afterlife, not a marionette in your twisted game.

put my soul out of its misery like you do with everyone else's. it's a common saying that after all hardship comes times of happiness, so where's mine? must i end my life to satisfy you?

did that night in the alley, where i experienced the worst of humanity, the most disgusting act, not satiate your thirst for pain? they stripped me of my humanity, of my dignity. i was barely over a decade of life. these were supposed to be the peak of my kid years. why did they ruin it like that? more curses, more binding exorcising rituals that filtered my spirit from joy.

i am seventeen years old. i am not an adult. instead of letting me enjoy my last years of childhood, you spit at it and sneer. the devil turns me away, and laughs at you for making such a pitiful animal. compared to the rest of mankind, i am dross. 

a novel by xinqiu once talked about his best friend, chongyun, who had a sudden drop into an antisocial personality for some years. he lost his heart, his will to come outside, and completely abandoned xingqiu for three years. but in the end, he came back.

my only friend had to leave when i was seven. it's been ten years. and he hasn't come back. and he won't. because he too, succumbed to the sweet reaches of death. why couldn't he have come back.

many religious scholars believe that god is merciful to those who always lose more than they give. then, wouldn't i be nearest to the throne of god? i've lost everything in my spirit. the only thing lingering now is my trauma, and my anger.

was my existence really that worthless?

walking out the door is a chore. internally, i start laughing at myself. i have so little motivation left to do anything that i can't even walk out the door to kill myself. pathetic.

there it is. my watery coffin. the angel of death seems to be floating atop the sea of blue, waiting to take my soul. what a lovely welcome from the reaper themself. 

the scars littering my arms and ankles tingle a little, reminding me of how the pain will finally be gone. never again will life hurt me.

"you don't want to do that."

i don't have the heart to ask who the man is, or why he's trying to stop me from dying. i've never met him. i don't intend to befriend him.

"i do."

his blue-green braids flutter in the breeze. "no, you really don't. i'll do what i have to, to make you stop."

"you don't even know me. what do you want from me. let me pass peacefully. reality is too unforgiving already."

"well, do you want a reason why you shouldn't?"

"no, not really, but continue," i don't have time for this. 

"because the wind doesn't wish to lose another one of its children."

and for some reason, that phrase melted my wish to die all away. maybe i'll wait for a day.

but i won't ever forget that sentence, even if i die.

as i trudge back home, the boy stays behind me, humming a light melody. his voice is strikingly clear, like the misty pond in the morning, which reflects the sky like a mirror if no currents disrupt its' serenity. 

"and sometimes i wish i'd never been born at all."