I feel like I’m withering away.
Rotting from the inside out.
My body breaking down and I’m going into shock.
I can’t feel anything anymore.
There is no life left in me.
Not sure why my heart is still beating and my eyes still seeing, my fingers still touching, and my mind just wandering.
Around in circle until I can’t remember who I am.
I’ve forgotten.
Or had I ever really known?
It takes courage to take your own life.
To let yourself drift into nothingness.
Into the unknown.
To leave your family, your home, this life.
But this home is no longer a home.
It is a prison of my thoughts and feelings.
Keeping me trapped here with no way of breathing.
Telling me I will never make it.
Telling me I’ll never win.
In the game of life.
Everyone will lose and die eventually, and for various reasons.
Suicide does not mean you give up forever, it means you give up this life.
Until the next one.
Where maybe the grass will be soft and green and the skies always clear.
Where you feel weightless and relaxed, always.
Where you appreciate the warm breeze on your arms and face while you’re sitting on a rock looking over a lake and just watching the water ripple.
Feeling a sense of zen.
Where you are loved by all and, you, yourself love all.
Where society doesn’t break you down and cosmetics are useless.
This is the place for me beyond this cruel world.
My mind will be free of these diseases.
I will walk, lay, sit, run, skip, freely and without pain.
This is my dream.
To be free.