w o r d s ¿

d e a t h

I've no need to slit my wrists, for the sharp blades of your rejection cut me open, blood seeping through the incisions until I no longer see anything but red.

Reason I have not to burn myself, for the white hot flames of your hatred constantly lick at my skin until I'm trapped in an endless, blazing fire.

Hanging myself would be unnecessary for I already hang from every word you speak, letting your voice wrap around me like a murderous rope, a noose with intention to kill me slowly until I've run out of air.

Poison would do no good, for I'm already immune to your venomous lies, swollowing the toxins every time you would pour them in a glass and serve them to me, thinking I didn't know.

I could submerge myself in the deep end of the ocean and allow the water to fill my lungs, but I've been drowning since I met you so I've already learned to hold my breath until I've convinced myself I'm surviving.

I could walk right off the roof and plummet to my death, but you see I'm already falling fast and hard, and you've somehow managed to kill me before I hit the ground.