It's what I hear from you,
It's what I hear and see when I visit you in your hospital bed.
I wait for something,
Anything hoping some day you'll wake up,
And I'll see those beautiful green eyes again.
It eats me up every single time.
I want it to end.
I have come to the conclusion that silence is violent and cruel.
You not waking up and lying in a hospital bed is violent and cruel.
You've grown too close to me.
You have become like air,
Everything I need in order to survive,
But it's time for me to unhook you from my veins,
And to say goodbye.
You are no longer needed,
You are no longer welcomed into my life,
Because you have brought nothing but anger and frusturation.
I look for something different now,
I want you to bleed away,
Carry yourself away and the emptiness you've brought into my life,
And into his.
Leave the way you came into our lives,
You are now dead to me.
I wonder how many times you have climbed into a tub and thought,
"Wow maybe I could drown in hopes of escaping my life."
I dont know how many of you have thought that but let's just say a few.
One: I step into the tub with my left foot and the water is immensely warm.
Downing pills couldn't be that bad right now.
Maybe I could grab the bottle without anybody noticing.
I wonder if I could make my own concoction of medicine would suffice.
Concoction is a funny word.
Two: I step in with my right foot and everything is tingling from the heat.
If I charge my phone from the plug over there by the sink,
Could I electrocute myself?
I wonder how bad electrocution hurts.
Deep fried food would be nice right now.
Three: I sink into the tub and pull my knees to my chest.
if I lay back now and fight myself from breathing,
Could I do it?
I wonder how long it takes somebody to drown themselves in a tub while fighting their instinct to survive.
I could adapt and grow gills.
Four: I lay back into my tub and watch the water rise.
The water is warm and my body is heavy.
I can't kill myself because my headstone will be something sad,
My funeral will play music I'll hate listening to as a ghost,
People I don't even know will show up.
What if my ex shows up?
Five: I sink lower into the water until I can no longer hear clearly and it tickles the side of my eyes.
What's the point in breathing.
Breathing is so weird.
Why do I have to maintain a body that's going to die anyways?
I wonder what dying feels like.
Six: I've been in here for an hour. Maybe I should get out.
This water has turned mildly lukewarm.
I'd like to stay but I'm getting kinda cold and I like the warmth.
Could I just empty half and add more hot water?
I am sitting in a pool of my own dirt.
Seven: I'm climbing out while simultaneously pulling the stopper.
Theres so many different ways to say that you or somebody is dying;
Kick the bucket.
Pull the plug.
One foot in the grave.
Bite the dust.
Some of them are kinda funny.
Eight: Realizing that I love baths but hate the thoughts that come with the quiet bathroom.
The mental kind of exhausted.
Can I stop now?
Can I just lay down and close my eyes?
My anxiety is overworking me.
Nine: I open my door with a stiff towel and a cold room.
I love the quiet but the quiet kills.
I love my mind yet the way it works is poisonous to me.
In my empty bedroom.
I grip so tight
My knuckles are white
Holding on for my relentless life
Clutching at patience that leaves me so fast
Stomach turning windmills
Starved of you
Hungry for your lyrics
My lungs strain
Pulling in breath but not enough to fill me
Drowning in the
Waves of time
I can't stop thinking about you
Scrolling through songs
Trying to drown out your silence, that fills every space
I cannot sleep
So restless I need your words
To send me off
If I dream,
Will you meet me there?