What if I said I wanna die.
Words are torture. Words are commitment. As the old saying refers, words do not fly. They stay. They sting. They stink.
You can pull a needle back. It keeps hurting. But you cannot pull a word back, it hurts better.
I accidentally stopped believing today. I stopped talking. I stopped hearing. I stopped laughing. I accidentally stopped hoping today.
I’d never see all that coming. I’d never believe, even if someone told me. I’m just so sorry, I can’t take it anymore. My very own thoughts are burying me alive. It burns. It literally burns, like an ice-cold knife would do.
I wanna see you, all alive and real as much as I never want to see you again. My head’s going to explode. I want to vomit misery and anger and disappointment. I’d almost be glad if someone just comes and shoots me in the head. Way easier.
I wanna float. Float in sorrow, without any feelings. Empty skies. Would be a fun place to not feel anything. Words are bloody torture. I accidentally stopped talking today.