Letting Go Is All I've Held Onto
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How I long for the sweet demise, with every stroke is
another riping sensation at my soul. How I crave for the
blade to sink itself into me just one last time.
I keep telling myself I'm stronger then that, I'm not an
addict, I don't need it to live. I've come too far ...
But it is not a battle of strength and weakness. It's a
test. A test that life has thrown at me, and expected me
to complete against my will.
I can try ... and live on false hope. Nothing is stopping
me ... except everything. Love is stopping me. Courage is
stopping me. Promises are stopping me. Everyone ... is
My mum knows about NO MORE. But thats all she knows. She
doesnt know about LOST, and she DEFFINATELY doesnt know
about my attempted death, the six lines that stare to mock
me and tell me how it could have been.
Sometimes I cant help but hate Kevin for showing up. Then
I hate myself emediately afterwards for even letting a
glimpse of that thought cross my cluttered mind.
How am I going to tell her ... that her only daughter, her
second child, with such potential, tried to end it all one
sweet spring night. With the sun setting, retreating under
its blanket of hills, and the moon begging to peek itself
I ... I dont know anymore. How could I have come so close,
yet have been so far away. The knife was in my grasp but
seemed so far from reach.
It was all like a heroic scene in a movie. Everything
seemed to slow itself down, as I spoke soft words, and
wrote out my final words to everyone I loved. The worlds
was speeding by, but not to me. No one noticed me. No one
cared. I was too absorbed in the selfish task I had to
commit, to be bothered with the thousands of screaming
trucks below me.