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No, I’m not suicidal.
No, I don’t cut my wrists. I don’t pop pills or go to parties, I don’t smoke weed every minute or drown my thoughts in vodka. Anymore.
Yes, I struggle getting out of bed or be anywhere on time. I look myself in the mirror and wonder why I’m still alive. I stare at white walls and ignore all calls, and texts, and any kind of contact…
I am afraid when a light dims and darkens a room. I grow tense if someone comes too close too soon or holds me far too tight or long. I don’t like thunderstorms, or hearing rain hit the roof, or fireworks, or dogs barking, or noise at all.
I am genuine. Genuinely anxious. Uncomfortable, upset, depressed, scared for my life and scarred for life due to things I will never be able to control; I genuinely feel I am no longer of value, I no longer belong on this wasteland I call Earth. Others call it home, but I feel nothing but alone. I am floating.
We’re all just floating. Specks of existence spinning on an endless loop, no purpose. I. have no purpose, I am no longer myself. I am a shell of who I once was, don’t ask me what happened because I don't really know, and what I do know I refuse to tell. All I know is
No, I’m not suicidal. If someone wants me dead I won’t squander their efforts; I want to die. I just don’t feel the need to be the one who chooses when I have to say goodbye.
Goodbye.
About the Creator
Kay Lcrxx
I study psychology-- and partake in substances to expand my mind. With mind expansion comes creativity, and my creative gift happens to manifest in written form. If you want more creativity, feel free to leave a tip!! 🕉💜☮
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