[TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SELF HARM AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS]
sometimes i want to die.
want to take the blade.
slice away my skin.
slice away my muscle.
slice away tendons and ligaments.
gouge my bones.
sometimes i want to slit my wrists.
i don't.
i feel the temptation.
the thought of taking those scissors.
those knives.
those pencils and tacks and tools.
and ending it.
sometimes i want to feel my blood.
slick and warm and dark.
not blood from an artery.
no.
blood from the veins.
dull and sluggish.
the thoughts in my head.
i ponder what it would be like.
dying.
i know the clinical side of death.
heart slowing.
brain dying.
my brain is dead.
why isn't my heart?
sometimes i want to feel my skin rip.
i want to tear my flesh.
stain my lips with my own blood.
i want to dig my fingers into my skull.
but i won't.
sometimes i wish i didn't fear death.
wish i didn't want to stay.
wish i didn't have the guts to live.
my heart keeps beating.
my clock keeps ticking.
my eyes keep blinking.
sometimes i wish i was alive.
then the pills make me human again.
