I have a thousand fucks, but don’t give one
Spending my last days watching the setting sun
The lies I tell myself, to continue this charade
The painful memories streaming by in parade
Lights out, hit the racks
Bag up my ashes in a paper sack
Elation creeping up my spine
For on this poison I shall dine
As blissful silence
Replaces self inflicted violence
I’m surprised that people responded to my post about wanting to die probably because I’m used to being ignored when I need help the most. That’s right – ignored. It’s called growing up with a depressed, emotionally distant mother who was too preoccupied with her own problems to give her baby girl the nurturing and love she needed. Sneer if you want. Whatever. I don’t give a fuck. I’ve spent years in therapy, group therapy, on medications, making crazy, fucked up choices that intellectually I could not defend or understand yet I acted on anyway. I finally, finally put it all together: not enough of […]
Swallow. My mouth quickly floods again at the feint smell of vinegar. Â It is not hunger or anything normal; it is the frantic feeling of anticipation for my next shot. Â Sitting in a hot car for hours. Text received: Be there in thirty. Four hours later, Text received: be there in 25. I think to myself,”He really means it this time.”
It is time to relax. I sit on the couch and slowly string my thoroughly probed arm through the slip tie of my belt. Â IÂ draw fresh water from the cap of a water bottle. 16.. 17… 35 grains.. this should be enough. I set the […]
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