My lips cradle my unlit cigarette,
as I raise a lighter to its tip and allow it to kiss the flame.
I taste its cancer and feel it circulate my body.
The smoke wraps itself around my lungs.
It embraces my lungs like an old friend.
With every inhaled breath the embrace becomes tighter and tighter.
The tightness is uncomfortable,
but also my only comfort.

Anxiety reverberates through my body. My chest becomes so heavy that it feels as if a cinderblock has been lied down on it. All of my body's involuntary functions pause to listen to the demons that live in the back of my head. The demons announce to my anatomy that I have no worth, no value. The demons mock my lungs, "Why work so hard to keep her breathing when nobody on earth wants her alive." My body receives the criticisms and obeys the demon's demands. My lungs quit. I cannot breath. My mouth quits. I cannot speak, the only sounds escaping are soft screams. My ears quit. I hear nothing, besides the demons. My stomach quits. It tries to commit suicide by consuming itself causing me to curl into a ball in severe agony. My eyes try to fight off the negativity. They push the negativity out through tears, but it isn't enough. They look myself over in the mirror, trying to find some value. My eyes explore my entire body, searching desperately for something beautiful, something worth fighting for. They find nothing, but disappointment. My hands fight too. They find a blade and slide it across my wrist, a demon escapes me through the tear in my skin. My body feels a slight relief, but soon a different demon rekindles my self disgust. I let the blade dance across my body, over and over again, feeling slight relief each time. Eventually my entire body is bleeding and I am still only slighting relieved of my pain. My eyes work with my hands on the search to find a place to help the demons to escape. There is no place on my body left, that I could use to release my demons. My crying has stopped and enough demons have left my system to breath comfortably. I put the blade away, and slip into bed, my entire body aching. The physical pain is much easier to handle than the physical and emotional torture the demons would have caused. I lay in bed, trying to be as still as possible to avoid agitating my wounds. I cry to myself silently, because I know I'm going to have to rip myself open again tomorrow night. I feel numb enough to eventually to fall into a slumber. Will I spend the rest of my life rereleasing the same demons over and over again, just to feel unsatisfied and numb? Are my demons right? Is my life worthless? Especially considering I'm at my best either when I'm unconscious or when I'm numb? I am so tired of being numb. Agonizing numbness.

The tips of my fingers are ripped off and ****** from trying to scratch my way out of my own skull. My heart is one thousand pounds trying to pump my blood through my gyrating body. I inhale to breath, but my lungs only receive my anxiety. I breathe deep, but intake no air. I am all of the sudden falling. Falling back, but there is no where to land. Others are floating around me. Breathless and afraid, I am in outer space. Falling into the darkness, I need to breathe. I involuntarily let it consume me. My emotions bawl up in my chest as I watch planet Earth fly away. I cough up the word "No" and try to swim through the zero-gravity, back to reality. No matter how much strength I put in, I only move further away. Reluctantly, I give up. The emotions bawled up in my chest, fly up to my head, dance their way through my skull and seep out of my eyes as a gentle cry. I am afraid of the darkness.