I feel like trash in a series of temporary situations that seldom go right.

It pains my mind so often that I almost need to be saved from myself.

... I hate myself.

I see the lines are blurring and now a plot will start stirring.

I take a breath and hold it in. I am dreaming of the day I sleep and never wake up.

... I think of killing myself.

My lack of purpose and bottomless depression is beyond unbearable.

The world would certainly be a much better place without a burden like me.

... I am scared.

Who wants to feel hated everywhere they go? (No matter what they do.)

Then I wasted so much time trying to become numb to it all.

... I am crying.

Because the scariest thing is not really losing my feelings.

It is having them and never being able to use them.

... I am less than human.

Death is the only solution that ensures pain never haunt me again.

It is inevitable... An undeniable truth that we will all die someday.

... My hour approaches.

An ache in my chest overwhelms my body as I begin to look at my options.

I cant stop this pain... I cannot end these thoughts... I cannot feel light trapped in this closet.

And then I realized...

That some people are meant to live... And others...

To die.