Non-existence is calling.
Sounds good to me.
To be erased.
To no longer be.

And if I try
to burn away
the remnants of the past.
The sweet catharsis I would feel
simply would not last.

A ticking time bomb:
destined to self-destruct.
And the promise of an end,
a sweet release,
has me hooked.

And if you saw me,
you would not be able to tell:
That every conscious thought
causes pain,
and every unconscious breath
causes hell.

And though I'm on the brink,
I think I hide it well.
But it can't last forever.
Nothing lasts forever
and my facade of deception
is certainly no exception.

But by the time it's clear,
it will be far too late.
My mind is filled with fear
of my mindless self-loathing,
and my inevitable
fate.

Non-existence keeps calling.
Sounds awfully good to me.
To finally have some peace.
To finally
be free.