I’m disgusting.
I’m afraid of everything.
I’m scared of the dark,
Of my dad,
Of myself.
I’m afraid of living,
But I’m slightly more afraid of dying.

I’ve held that knife,
Felt its cold, sharp edge,
Pressed against my throat
My wrist.
I’ve stared at those pills,
Hours on end,
I’ve even dreamt about them.
I’ve stood atop that building,
Leaning over the edge,
Frozen in place,
Hoping that the slightest of breeze would knock me over the edge.

I’ve wished to die,
Prayed, even.
I’m just too scared to do it.
**** myself
So I sit there, and stare at that wall,
Dreaming of a “tragedy”
That a car will come out of nowhere,
Or that tiny crack will trip me,
Or maybe I’ll even catch something lethal.
Anything that will **** me,
Anything but myself.

I’m so sorry that I’m still alive.
I’m sorry to you,
And to me.

That I’m a coward.