I've always said that I wouldn't mind being in a coma.
Because the world wouldn't have to worry about me so much.

Now truthfully, most of the world has no idea who I am, so the world doesn't have much of a reason to worry, but still...

The small percentage of people who do know me, would be so worried all the time.

I would always be in one place.
The hospital.

I would always stay in the same position, and have the same reaction to everything.

Good news, bad news, no news at all.

And yet...

A coma for me is just a cover up.

I wouldn't want this to serve as an excuse for someone to visit me out of guilt.
And I would be able to respond if they told me they were sorry.

It kills me to know, that beyond being a limp body, I'm also a lost soul.

But even as I am here now, awake.

I feel closer to dead than anyone can ever know.

Only because I finally lost it.
And by "it" I only mean... me?

Like I was put on this planet just to hurt people, and I sure did...

I sure... did.

This feeling..

Of having people around, but still feeling like the most truthful thing to say is "I have no one left".

I can say it, and it still feels true.

I never wanted to hurt anyone.

So maybe people would finally feel guilty for leaving me if they just saw me close to "drifting to sleep".

Breathing harder, and feeling my T-shirt suffocating me.
And then feeling the vice grip of my sins wrap around my neck.

And I can't take it any more.

Sins...

Sounds too biblical and cliché right?

I'm tired of fighting to live well.

I'm tired.

Let me sleep.

Or induce a coma.

And put this whole thing to rest.