Tag Archives: death


Misery is filling the air around me, my lungs inhaling it, slowly, but steadily.

It’s a usual night, quiet, yet not peaceful; dry, yet too warm to be able to breathe easily. As I’m writing these words, darkness has started settling over the horizon, leaving nothing but a pitch black view and an inkling of gloom. If I were to get up, the tiny window would allow me to see my wretched reflection; a mirror of who I am, say others, while a lie is all I can observe.

What is it like to know who you are?

To not constantly question your entire being, to feel like something else but a heart that has been shattered over and over again, a soul that is beyond repair, broken and incomplete — without hope?

I don’t know.

Demons are constantly whispering into my ears, living inside of me, taking up every inch. There’s no more space for “me”, whoever that may be; perhaps there never was.

And even when I try to reach out, to fight, to find myself, peace, sanity, — comfort, there is still nothing to hold on to.

There’s only darkness.

(I am alone. I am no one. I am nothing.)

Perhaps Death would be a kinder companion.



I want to say that I’m okay, alright, just fine – peachy, but the truth is that I am not. I’m broken, miserable, just nobody & nothing; I’m longing for Death. I swear I can see Him right there in front of me, not quite reaching out, yet I can hear Him counting down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds I have left on this earth.
My time is running out.


I’m suffocating; these thoughts inside of me are filling up my lungs, leaving no room for air. Each day (each hour, each minute) I cannot help but long for the courage to forcefully rip them out, to spill them on a canvas or an empty page. Yet try as I might, nothing will change. I will still feel as though I am trapped under water. The voices within me, pretending to help, whisper: “Do not breathe, or you will drown” over and over, and yet here I am, stuck, knowing that whichever path I choose, Death is the only one that will reach out to me.

tw: i feel too sad

Overwhelmed with sadness
I find it hard to breathe on.
Each day is coloured by misery
and my mind is too far gone.

If giving up was easier
and meant a lot less pain,
this sharp and ice-cold knife
would have already met my vein.

Yet as it is these scars
are as far as I can go,
to express my darkest despair
about how I feel too low.


This head
nothing but a vessel
for misery;
yet infinitely it cannot
be filled.
One day
it’s going to spill over
and burst,
I’m just waiting for when
it’ll get me killed.

(cut lips)

It’s been almost 10 years. 10 years of suffering. 10 years of fighting a war against myself that I won’t ever get back. The mere sight of that number makes me feel utterly nauseous and I can feel my knees getting weak. These illnesses have invaded and ruined every part of my life and me, and yet I am still expected to be able to look ahead with hope and positive thoughts.


I still remember the first few years of this misery. How I begged and cried and hoped and tried to get better and yet nothing helped, nothing changed. I just kept getting worse. What if that’s all I’m here for? To get worse and worse and worse?
I’m tired of feeling like I’m choking.
I’m tired of listening to ‘stay strong’s and ‘you can do it’s because quite frankly, I just don’t have the energy anymore.

Hopefulness is a rare feeling inside of me; most of the time I just feel utterly nauseous and miserable and low. The fact that I’m seemingly unable to handle life, my responsibilities and my demons certainly isn’t helpful in that regard either.

Time is not on my side. Not now, not ever. And it’s exactly that fact that keeps me in this sea of pure despair.

Maybe I just need some time off, some time away from everything and everyone to decide what to do, to decide, once and for all, if going on is truly what I desire or if leaving is the best option.

What if?

Every day is a battle, and every day seems to be getting harder and harder to get through. I know it’s because my mood is currently diving all the way down to hell, and I know that there have been days that were easier, that weren’t as bad, but when I spend my nights watching self-destructive memories flash in front of my eyes and my days questioning if I should eat something, if I should get out of bed, if I should continue my life or not, then it’s just a bit difficult to remind myself of the positive aspects of my life and of easier times.

I wish I could tell my mind to just put a sock in it. I wish I could tell it to think about my best friends, my very much beloved boyfriend, about the little things that make me laugh like bad jokes and videos/pictures of kittens and puppies (and all the sweet baby animals out there), but it’s just, unfortunately, not an option all the time. Things that trigger me, even if it’s just the smallest situation, seem to be getting the best of me each time, and it doesn’t matter how often I count from 1 to 10, or how much I try to control my breathing and bite my lips to keep the screaming, the pain inside; I just always seem to be standing on the edge of a cliff, swaying back and forth, threatening to fall.

They say that it gets easier. I agree. It can get easier, it does get easier, but the issue is that out of nowhere it can get horribly worse again, and if you aren’t prepared for that, if you haven’t quite learnt how to fly instead of fall, it just fucking sucks. I want to believe and hope and fight, but my God, currently? Currently I’m hopeless. Currently I’m standing in front of the mirror, hating every inch of this body, wondering how it’s possible that I’m loved. Currently I’m hearing every single voice inside of my head yelling curses at me, hitting me from each side. And my God, they say that fire cannot kill a dragon, yet what if all this time I’ve seen myself as a dragon, I’ve been nothing but a puppet in a cruel play; what if the only purpose I have is to wait till the curtain closes and my puppet masters decide to cut the strings in order to choke me with them? What if, what if, what if?

What if I’m just too tired, too old, too broken to go on?

(Tw: a nightmare)

This sea of hopelessness has long swallowed me.
I’m stuck;
forced to 
again and again 
without relief.
I wonder
will I find it the day I jump?

05/03/ – 02

It feels like with each second more and more misery is seeping into my bones; only to settle down within and transform into some kind of heavy material that is trying to drag me down.

and further down,
and even further.)

Whatever I do – walking, standing, sitting, even lying curled up in bed seems to take so much energy and effort, and yet, it still isn’t enough to make this tugging-kind-of-feeling stop, to make it go away.

Why does it feel like it’s trying to drag me six feet under?
Why can’t I help but feel like that’s exactly where I belong anyway?

Why can’t I just go to sleep and not wake up?


Death knocked on my door,
asked me if I want to come along, once more.
And once again I’m crying, not sure what to say.
“I think it’s time. I don’t want to stay.”