you haven't always been this way. you haven't always dreamt of death, or thought of a million ways that someone could die. you haven't always longed for death's sweet embrace or packed your clothes into every suitcase, without a clear destination. remember the time your dreams had died, asphyxiated by their unlikeliness and lack of pride? remember when you heard you could do anything, as long as you tried? tell me about the night your ex-lover left, without a trace, and your heart swelled as you longed for their gentle embrace. tell me about all the times you thought of leaving, but couldn't, because you can't escape what's in your mind. tell me about your thoughts, the ever-unpleasant trojans in your head, taking your dreams and striking them dead. tell me about your obsession with the night sky. is it because you can't see destruction in the dark, or because that was the only time you felt truly high? tell me about the night you lied awake with tears in your eyes drowning your dreams and little white lies. tell me about the time you destroyed yourself and picked up the pieces to rebuild someone else. tell me about the lies you spoke and how each one felt like a dagger down your throat. somehow you always have three words flitting from your tongue, you're not afraid to say them, you're only afraid of what's to come, so, tell me about the pills, and how when you popped one in, the world popped out of focus. tell me why you always set an alarm, is it because you're afraid that one day, you're never going to wake up? tell me, do you even want to wake up?