Heart heavy with clouds, nothing feels clear.
Every desire to continue fades, disappears.
Lingering pain in a minute seems so tough,
Pieces of me wonder if I've had enough.
Coming closer, a strange relief appears.
Again I fall into the trap of my fears.
Remnants of hope, with soul stripped bare,
Longing for solace, though none is there.
All I wish is for the endless night to disappear.
Now read the first uppercase letters and do what you would do for Carla in the people who need you.
Usually, an invitation to chat is all we need, a message, a moment by my side without saying anything, just knowing that you don't see me as a threat and that you're not trying to save me, but simply want to talk to a normal person.
I'm telling you, tomorrow is the last day, I've planned it so much that it's impossible to fail, I have everything prepared it will be so quick, I won't leave room for anyone to intervene or to know what they thought if I fail, I can't leave anything loose, everything must end.
"What would you do if I died? (we've all asked someone that question)".
Did you know that people who commit suicide are the ones who talk most about their death?
When the fact has already been consummated and the result is irreversible, the first thing people say is:
"He looked so cheerful, so normal".
Of course, we can barely cope with this storm inside, we are so exclusive that we wish not to stain others with the blood that falls rotten as a result of our wounds, normally I'll make you laugh until you cry, I'll play the best jokes and you'll think I'm the funniest person in the world, but the worst joke I'm going to play on you is to make you think that everything is fine but in reality everything is going wrong and getting worse every day, that's how annoying it is, that's why no one imagines it or expects it, because as masters of deception we have even deceived ourselves, believing that suicide is the way out, I'm honest, I don't think it is, but anyway, I can't stand it anymore, I can't stand myself, I hurt myself every day, I feel like a nuisance and well here everything is going to end, maybe.
Tomorrow will be the day.
YOU ARE READING
One week before my suicide (In progress)
Novela JuvenilI want to tell you the story of Carla and her last week before committing suicide. "One Week Before My Suicide" is a powerful first-person narrative that delves into the emotional struggles of Carla Pérez over the course of a week. Through Carla's c...
