copper.nocturne

I can’t clean the blood…

i barely can distinguish three options…

i can’t decide…

i can’t listen to this song over and over again, that reminds me of my son when he was a newborn, 18 years ago, my collicky boy, dad always had your back…

i can’t envision a future with my boy and my girl…

i can’t ask for help…

i can’t deal with this hurt…everyday is the same…i cry and miss them…i can’t do it anymore…

working from home, no one knows, not even my best friends, and i cant fool them anymore…he knows…he’s seen the scars…i can’t…

i can’t decide get what i had, and what i need, so […]

…it’s all i think about…

I woke up…i woke up…i wasn’t supposed to wake up…but i woke up…

…sick, sore, deeper cuts, the red stuff everywhere. I can’t move my arm right. A f*****g mess. Stomach feels like i’ve been stabbed. That was supposed to be enough. I couldn’t see straight, let alone unlock the best option…

…i feel s******r than i did before…failed at this too. A few more cups of courage…

I hope the ones you think l*v* you, tell you they do…if not, bottoms up, i feel that pain…

#help

My tears fall,
The blood drips,
It tastes like iron,
3 bullets sit in front of me,
The razor knife sharps,
Greets itself again,
My tears keep falling.

No one or nothing comes.

But the burning pain soothes beyond what spirituality can comprehend.

I love the burn. And the blood that follows.

I stare at three bullets.
470.7mm.410
Which one will do it?

But the burn of a razor sharp knife wins. I want to hurt. I dont want immediate. I want the burn.

Drunk af. I know what i want. The fierce end. A bloody mess because it tastes like iron. A rust life has left behind.

F^**. I think i need stitches.

I didnt pass out. I woke up hungover as hell. Crusty. And sore. I made it through a few days in pain. Covered (thank you winter) and full of “f*** you”’s in my head.

I wanted to write letters but didnt. I wrote (my job) to cover for the lack of idiotic leadership we have in this pandemic, not from any direction but because it felt right to do…instead.

Im nothing more than a s*** dad just wanting one more hugs from his kids. That will never come. I’m too inebriated and emotional for this rn. F***. Reach out to your parents […]

I dont know why im posting this. It’s meaningless to the faceless. I fought for my kids for too long and now they’re gone. I once believed fathers mattered, dads mattered, but we dont. I cant fight anymore. In and out of dark places, only to find deeper, darker places, my mind races, and the only thing slowing it down is this drink…which i havent touched for over 20 years…until recently when all hope left. I know it doesnt help, but it numbs. I was with them almost everyday since birth, and i cant get used to this life without them. Is this what life […]