D
Done_Surviving
Student
- Sep 17, 2023
- 105
It's a feeling of rage, agony and desperation. I feel it down there, boiling deep inside my guts, like a bubble of icky poison that forever expands, pushing pass my organs and trying to break free by tearing apart my skin. But I don't let it. It climbs up my chest and slitters up my trachea, just to die as a knot inside my throat, for I cannot open my mouth, I cannot set free whatever screeching sound might come out of me. It might not even be loud, it might just be a weak tiny dying whimper, carrying away whatever strength had left in me, but still why risk it. I cannot scream, even thought I want to, I want to scream that I feel sick, that my head feels light and woozy, that the medicines aren't working, that the therapy is completely pointless, that I'm tired, I don't have to energy to work anymore, to go to school, to talk, that I feel alone, and the only people that are still around me are just prison guards making sure I don't die, that I don't enjoy the things that I used to enjoy, I don't find joy in anything, that I feel like a failure, like a reject, that I would give anything to die, to make this torment stop, I'm tiered of feeling sick, I'm tiered of dragging my body around just to be called a mediocre, ungrateful bitch. I want to scream that I want to die.