2 views
lose
I don’t think people understand how it feels.
After the night of coming back to reality, everyone is worried yet very mad at you. They say things like “Are you ok?”
“Why did you do that”
“You could have talked to me”
“Did you not stop to think about us?”
The list continues, it grows and grows, but never changes along those words. How can I answer that? How can it not hurt? What should I say, to make you feel better, without making me feel worse. Yes, I’m ok. I Just like playing with pill bottles and knives against my skin. The thrill of the fun, is almost as if it kills me. Get it? Its all some sort of joke. My life feels amusing to others yet, I dont want to live long enough to see how it ends. No, Im not ok, I am hurting inside and theres no way for me to say how it feels or how much pain I am in. Its uncomfortable to breathe, knowing someone else who probably wanted to, couldn’t. It hurts to smile and laugh, not because I dont feel the actual joy, but because I lie to you so you can’t feel what I have. So I dont have to see that look in your face like I am now. It’s as if its a mix of disappointment with worry, and many more things in its stead.
Why did I do it? Good question, sometimes I’m not so sure myself. I didnt know I was capable of murdering a person who was already dead. I simply believe things would be better, don’t you? They say time heals but as days pass by, I feel the same or worse. Its as if time itself finds it funny and tries to top it off with something else. What is more amusing is trying to see a better day we know deep down wouldn’t come. Why did I do it? Well, why must I live to endure it so you can feel better about yourself?
I couldn’t talk to anyone, not even myself. My mind goes racing, and I don’t understand it at all. How do I explain something that isnt there, or explain the reason why it hurts so much, or explain how I am in pain for no reason at all? How do I tell you that I no longer want to breathe, without scaring you, or having you think I am crazy. Tell me how do I talk to you when you are busy or have stuff to deal with, on your own. When I really am not important, or a single thought.
Did I think of you when I did that mistake? Yes.
I did. I thought of you for every second of it. I thought how you would be better off, even if it gives you a little pain. I thought it would lessen your work load, and lessen your stress. It would give you more money to spend to yourself. More time to focus, instead of worrying about somebody else. It would make you happy in the future, and even so, Make you stronger at that. I thought of you most importantly, because I figured, it would benefit you as much as it would to me. Then again, did you not think about me? I did this not for my own pleasure, but for escape. I can’t do this anymore, I don’t know how much more I can fake. I don’t know how much more I can take. I did this for you and me. It was a ‘Selfish Act’ as people say or think it is. Its selfless because at the end, we think we are a burden to everyone around us, and enduref the pain as much as we could. What more to make it easier on both of us, by finally letting go.
I’m sorry I tried.
Take that sentence however you want. It goes both ways. Until next time.
No one will ever see me or feel me the same.
It’s as if I’m adding more reasons onto the list.
© grey:D
After the night of coming back to reality, everyone is worried yet very mad at you. They say things like “Are you ok?”
“Why did you do that”
“You could have talked to me”
“Did you not stop to think about us?”
The list continues, it grows and grows, but never changes along those words. How can I answer that? How can it not hurt? What should I say, to make you feel better, without making me feel worse. Yes, I’m ok. I Just like playing with pill bottles and knives against my skin. The thrill of the fun, is almost as if it kills me. Get it? Its all some sort of joke. My life feels amusing to others yet, I dont want to live long enough to see how it ends. No, Im not ok, I am hurting inside and theres no way for me to say how it feels or how much pain I am in. Its uncomfortable to breathe, knowing someone else who probably wanted to, couldn’t. It hurts to smile and laugh, not because I dont feel the actual joy, but because I lie to you so you can’t feel what I have. So I dont have to see that look in your face like I am now. It’s as if its a mix of disappointment with worry, and many more things in its stead.
Why did I do it? Good question, sometimes I’m not so sure myself. I didnt know I was capable of murdering a person who was already dead. I simply believe things would be better, don’t you? They say time heals but as days pass by, I feel the same or worse. Its as if time itself finds it funny and tries to top it off with something else. What is more amusing is trying to see a better day we know deep down wouldn’t come. Why did I do it? Well, why must I live to endure it so you can feel better about yourself?
I couldn’t talk to anyone, not even myself. My mind goes racing, and I don’t understand it at all. How do I explain something that isnt there, or explain the reason why it hurts so much, or explain how I am in pain for no reason at all? How do I tell you that I no longer want to breathe, without scaring you, or having you think I am crazy. Tell me how do I talk to you when you are busy or have stuff to deal with, on your own. When I really am not important, or a single thought.
Did I think of you when I did that mistake? Yes.
I did. I thought of you for every second of it. I thought how you would be better off, even if it gives you a little pain. I thought it would lessen your work load, and lessen your stress. It would give you more money to spend to yourself. More time to focus, instead of worrying about somebody else. It would make you happy in the future, and even so, Make you stronger at that. I thought of you most importantly, because I figured, it would benefit you as much as it would to me. Then again, did you not think about me? I did this not for my own pleasure, but for escape. I can’t do this anymore, I don’t know how much more I can fake. I don’t know how much more I can take. I did this for you and me. It was a ‘Selfish Act’ as people say or think it is. Its selfless because at the end, we think we are a burden to everyone around us, and enduref the pain as much as we could. What more to make it easier on both of us, by finally letting go.
I’m sorry I tried.
Take that sentence however you want. It goes both ways. Until next time.
No one will ever see me or feel me the same.
It’s as if I’m adding more reasons onto the list.
© grey:D
