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.
I would always stay in the same position, and have the same reaction to everything.
Good news, bad news, no news at all.
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.
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.
Sounds too biblical and cliché right?
I'm tired of fighting to live well.
Let me sleep.
Or induce a coma.
And put this whole thing to rest.
Fever dreams aren't easy to come by.