Cleave my flesh.
Break my bones.
Peel off my skin.
Worldly things in the end.
Skin heals, bones grow back and flesh regrows over time.
Hurt me so. Hate me eternally. Pain me deeply. These are the things you want.
You go about it the wrong way.
I cleave my own flesh away-hatred of my body.
I broke my bones-hatred of myself.
I peeled off my own skin-hatred of hating myself.
I've burned my flesh. Yet i do not feel.
I've cut my wrists and did not bleed out. Barely a month ago. I still felt nothing.
I took the rope. I took the plunge. Flailing a second or two. Closing my eyes. I felt nothing. The bar broke and i fell. There i lay in defeat once again.
So no worldly hurt can hurt me.
No.
Break my soul.
Tear out my heart.
Make me lose my mind.
Forget about me.
Abandon me.
Shut me out.
Push me away.
This is how you kill me. This is what it takes.
Push a little more and a little more.
Soon you will find that only crows gather at my grave. Lowered by rope. Cover by dirt from a lonely graveyard keeper.
That is how to kill me.
That is the way.
Rip and tear.
Flesh and soul both consumed.
Heart and mind both died.
Until there remains nothing but silence and darkness.
