fauxchiron

April 9th, 2020. Midnight.

I’ve never felt so hopeless than I do tonight

Should I turn the switch off? Should I put this to the end?

I can no longer breathe

The weight I carry gets even heavier and I can no longer bear it

It hurts

I don’t know what to do

I’m too tired to keep walking

I’m too far to be walking away

I’m too ashamed to get out of my way to pick another road

The finish line is near

But my legs are rotten from the untreated wound I got along the way

My hands are numb

My vision is blurry

My ears are ringing

I am paralyzed

Can’t you stop for me?

Maybe you shouldn’t

It’s not safe

I carry a virus

It’s been eating my skin

Not even a hyena will have me for lunch

And she’s been starving for days

I smell of death

My heart is still beating, though

Should I smack it?

Should I use what’s left of me to crush it?

My nails are long enough to tear my thin rotten flesh

It should be easier now

If I rest my head, will it gets better when I wake up?

But I can’t bring myself to sleep

Existing is no longer tolerable

Not even for a minute

Angel of death frowns

He said, not today my dear

What else can I do?

Let’s just sit and let out the loudest laugh

So loud it hurts my throat

So wide it rips tiny bit of my cheeks

Still

I can’t hear anything

But the ringing