I can almost taste death.
It’s calling me towards it, urging me to have the strength to just crawl a little ways further to the gates of hell, to fall a little ways further into the deep abyss of suicide, to jump into the lake of pure misery and let myself drowned.
It’s coming soon, I can feel it deep inside me. I am surprised it’s waited this long to grab me and whisk me away. I’ve been ready forever, silently waiting for my day to come when all the pain would be gone and I’d cease to be anything but a memory.
My body is getting weaker and weaker the more I cut, the blood slowly pouring out of my body and onto the bathroom floor. My eyes are closing and opening, like they’re teasing me with the mere thought of closing forever. My mind is slipping into oblivion, my thoughts never getting off dying, of wanting death to just come already so I can get out of this godforsaken place and stop having to hurt, to care, to feel.
The time is near. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Very soon.
I am slipping away.