Shit Face

It was a split second decision. The blade was glistening in my pale wrist. I want to feel pain, much terrible pain than this. I want to feel the pleasure of cold blood oozing from my withered palms. Perhaps it will cure me from the toxins of your departure. Perhaps it will make me feel alive, that now, once again, I would have to cast my own shadow. I gazed at the blank night sky, searching for a reprieve. The abyss gazes back at me, unfaltering, no answers.

Is it a sin to yearn for pain so much that when all the world has ceased to bludgeon me with fate I resort to self-infliction? I want to move further than this mediocre race with the faceless herd. I want to reach greater heights than the concreteness of the material or inconsistencies of love. I want to feel alive. I don’t want to forget vows broken and live this damned existence forgotten. I want to nurture the pain you have caused, a dark seed in the dark recess of my dark mind and darker soul, ecstatically torturing me when darkness falls.

Death becomes me and I embrace it. I embrace this numbing black lifelessness. This morbid world that will remain untouched by your blinding twisted sunshine -a bright vision at the end of the tunnel, only to get closer and realized its a light from an oncoming train. That shattered me into pieces, my whispered screams drowned by your superficial punk shrills. Until there’s nothing left but Silence. Anger. Darkness. Hate… Embracing me into an oblivious bliss of suffering, that a mortal selfish shit like you could never comprehend.