The Night Talks • Vents

this wont be poetic

  i cant make myself write this in my normal organization. the thoughts running through my head are making me dizzy. dreams are supposed to be light and happy. nightmares dark and scary. but this dream was a strange grey.
  everything seemed washed out around me. the noose was a community view and people just watched as other let themselves get hung. one would slam a lever down that yanked your body down from the platform and onto a rock, break your neck and a strange hanging. i felt love for it.
  then it came to me, i was wanting to be hung. at first, i was scared of the pain id feel for a split second, but then they numbed my body in preparation. and so i waited for the lever to fall and for my life to end, a smile dripping from my lips.
  no regret. nothing. i felt weightless. i calmly watched the people around me in the afterlife. i was dead and i was happy.
  strange nostalgia fills me as i type. my suicidal days were over, so i believed. but honestly, i always missed the cuts and pain. i miss carefully writing out suicide drafts. i miss it all.
  whats so wrong with wanting to die?