/opening up about being suicidal /then getting slapped in the face /gets caught actively ingesting poison /receives support to throw away the poison/ gets slapped in the face with it’s not my problem/ calls me ugly some more/months go by/the humiliation is permanent/ and poison is hard to buy/ but this sale might go through/ I’m ready to let go/ I’m tired of lying to myself/
I was interrupted that morning. Lawn workers. Or I would’ve drunk more. I felt happy gagging with pale skin. I wanted my fingertips to turn blue. I wanted my lips to turn darker blue. I felt free in those moments. And when I went home, it all settled in. I’m stuck here. I cried really hard that afternoon. Life is such a mind game. Nobody cares about anyone. I’m fooling myself going forward. I should’ve died that morning. Why do I lie to myself?