Silent Whispers

↬ four ↫

lisa ;
someone came to visit me today.
a man in a heavy, doctor coat.
i hate him.
he introduces himself as my therapist.
bullshit. i don't want a therapist, but what does he care?
— jungkook

"you're suicidal," he says like it makes all the difference.

it doesn't. i blink, refusing to open my mouth.

because choked sobs might come out instead of words. the last thing i want to do now is cry in front of this man.

"you're suicidal." he runs his hands through his cropped hair. funny thing how he gets rich off persuading people not to die. "god, do you what that even means?"

silence. he looks exasperated, like i'm an uncooperative kindergartener.

"that means. that means you want to commit suicide, you want to kill yourself. and we can't have that happening, can we?"

"why not?"

"life is a precious thing. you can't give yours away just because you feel like it."

it's my life to live, not yours. you can't control me. you don't even have the fucking right to speak like you're in my situation.