March 14, 2012
By Anonymous

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
I’ve been dead for so long.
Every memory emerges,
Explodes from my mind.
Mental vomit.

There’s a ghost living my life.
She walks,
She smiles,
And we have the same blue eyes.
But there’s a void eating at her soul.

People change.
That’s all they ever do
Yet, when it really comes down to it
They’re just always the same.
A liar is always a liar.
And a whore will always be a whore.

I used to know a boy,
With eyes like spring,
He had a four letter name,
He was beautiful.

My last coherent memory
it was May.
But now it seems to be snowing.

Life feels like a repeat
Of several similar anecdotes.
I’m bored.

I once heard a story of a girl,
Who threw back pills
And she learned to soar.
I throw back pills,
I fall.
I grow sicker.
But I don’t die.
I never die.
No matter how hard I try
I just never die.

The author's comments:
When I wrote this, I was very much at war with myself. A constant battle between living miserable, and ending it all. I had written this after I had already attempted suicide on multiple occasions (I have received the help I need, and am far more stable now).... I guess I felt like I was just watching my life, on the outside looking in sort of thing, I suppose.

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