I’ve grown envious of everyone,
Anyone who’s died in cruel and unusual ways.
At the hands of monsters.
Or at the hands of themselves.
I strangle myself,
Trying to do so much, as pray for the strength,
To take myself out that same way.
So I stay praying.

I’ve seen someone,
That someone is me.
In hell.
becoming a much darker version of myself.
There are moments of revisiting each and every mistake
I ever made.
Moments of perfect clarity.
I hate myself.
Then and now.
Please God, make it go away.
Or make it me, make it me who disappears.
I love You as hard as I can.
And I hate myself for it.
Every second of every day.
Do you love me?
My deepest regrets aren’t mistakes I made.
Or chances I took.
They are every breath I’ve taken post-birth.