Why do i torture myself like this
Every night when people are sleeping?
The old slashes
Are covered up by the new ones.
The thoughts of suicide
Run through my mind.
Every day and night,
The thought of a gun
Pointed at my head,
About to blow,
Or a sword being jabbed
Into my stomach
Puts me at peace.
Like the peace you feel
When you are about to die.
Like you have nothing
To worry about anymore.
You see your whole life
Flash before you.
Then the whole room
Echoes from your breaking screams.
You lay there on the floor;
Lifeless.
You feel nothing.
And you like it.
