#194

Please stay with me,
at least for tonight or until—
I fall asleep.

Right now,
there are two things I fear:
never waking up, and tomorrow.

I won't lie.
The sight of the folding knife
on top of my bedside drawer
seems all too alluring.
Enticing. Seductive.

Right now,
I'm fine.
Really.

But I don't know if—

There's this girl.
I don't know,
but it just sort of happened. Maybe?

But then there is life,
all too cruel, unjust, unfortunate,
as if the luck of a gambler
unkissed by Lady Luck.

Then there are my parents.
I don't deserve them.
Though I always—

I'm spoiled through and through.
I hate being one,
but I can't deny it. I am!

Yet my understanding of life
is as vast as a pond to a tiny cell,
yet so little, incomparably so,
when measured against an ocean.

It makes me—
it made me—
wear masks.
To understand life
as something far too vast
for the common man.

I hate that—
I am a paradox unto myself.
And I know, I'm a hypocrite.

All this shit.
Seriously, as if—

a mad god had grown tired
and become mad at a character,
a character named me.

Oh! I wish I could really
go back in time—

Maybe,
I would have done something
rather than become the me of today,
the one who has done nothing.

I'm a failure.

And even when it comes to taking one's life,
I—
I don't think I could go through with it.

Oh! How I wish
for this suffering of mine
to just end—
to be solved.

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