I am twenty years old and I am already dead.
I have been dead for a while now and I do not know how to breathe again. The body is an amazing tool. It does things you wish it wouldn't. Like breathe on its own.
I am dead but everyday I wake up from a nightmare and die again. A never-ending stream of deaths I get to live again every single time I open my eyes. Every single time I fall asleep.
I do not know how to be alive in a world where someone has my soul, a part of me they ripped out and sewed into their skin with a smile while I bled on the ground at their feet. I never thought I would be the kind of girl who would beg for release. But God and I have had a close relationship since I have started to try to **** myself in many, many different ways. God knows who I am because I curse Him every second my heart beats. I want God to be a Man. I want God to look like the ******* who ran away with that piece of me I can never get back.
I want someone to blame.
God will do.
Wishing you could die and not being able to force fate is a hard task. I do not want to drink white spirit and poison myself. I do not want to shoot myself in the head and throw bits of my brain on the nice vinyl floor of my bedroom. I want death to take me while I sleep, to pass from one side of the world to another. I want to take a breath and realize too late it will be the last.