I am tired of being told what I should and what I shan't.
And I know this platform isn't for ranting and yet here I'll rant.
I am sick of being empty, aimless, vague and out of place.
I am sick of wasting all your air, of taking all your space.
And my claws, I use to tear my skin, so that I could be set free,
And my screams I let out muffled and hushed to spare you my agony.
And my body feels imprisoning, my breath is getting faint
And my eyes are melting, face is welting, dying from the paint
And the bathroom doors complaining from the numb and from the tear
And my psyche getting tired of all the sorrow and the fear.
And the voice inside my head, always saying I'm not enough
And the lies I tell myself like "you can make it, you are tough."
And the people I looked up, lived with, shared with my days
And the lies they taugh me, unconditional love, they said, stays.
And the God whom I once worshiped and for whom I often cried
And the deaf, the blind, the disabled, to whom he's closely tied.
And the fact that I am beyond your repair, beyond all that can be done
And the way I feel at the start of each day and with every falling sun.
And the creature biting on my heart at every given chance
And the demons sitting in my head, not letting me advance.
And the love I always had, different faces every while
And the feelings that I gave away and never even got a smile.
This is not a ranting place, and yet here I wrote.
Is this a good place though to write one's suicide note?