But you don't see the hours I spend up staring at the dim lit ceiling when my heart won't quit beating.
I pray for it to stop.
and my bones are brittle
i pray for them to break me
and i'm disoriented more often than i'd like
my heart has a tendency to fuck me up and i
am so scared of what's to come.
I'm not ready to face whatever is on the other side, but I'm willing to take a risk.
I pray for you to stop me.
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Notes
Poetry'how can a person be filled with life and then be empty? Where does it all go?' A collection of suicide notes. (thank you farah (the_author15) for the dope cover, I love you).
