Me..

Me
By Ryan Gosh
I looked into my thoughts today and brought up the file of indecisiveness. I searched hard and long for the words to tell this life I’m ok. But not today my brain screams, you’re not ok. So I sit in a memory of happiness hoping that can make content and comfortable in my own skin. But its not satisfying to lurk in a thought that is no longer there.
I’m waiting for this life to turn from upside down to the feet planted and my head on straight. I burned my arm today to see what it felt like again. No new pleasure just a release of my own personal dumb found glory. I don’t understand what I’m doing walking this planet with no real ambitions in life. Except you,
My little black pen, hat I adore so dearly. You make me content in that moment as you let me use you to my discretion. You let me take you and rub you on a surface that makes my heart tingle. You except me with no judgment and you never nag or ask questions. You don’t wonder why I’m sad you just sit there and soak up my every stroke. You love me for me and I can let that be. You sit in my world and my thoughts with nothing to say not even an opinion nor any answers to the question I write so freely through you. You are a true friend in my mind and we will be brothers forever.

I died today and not one person had a thing to say. I slide my car under the barreling tires of a semi. My car was crush and I float there in dulled time waiting for the blow of the cement on my cold and brittle body. And as I float I think of what I had done and I had no regrets cause before I made this decision I loaded my veins with a true feeling killer. I had no emotions going into this and I wont when I’m dead.
Life is not worth living when I feel so sad; it’s not worth the risk to jeopardize the little happiness I bury deep in the dark edge of my mind. This world can’t take it from me if I don’t let them know. This paper is the real me and I shall burn this paper in its own little bonfire. No even better, I shall rip it to pieces and swallow it so no man can touch.

I’m only content when I go to sleep, for when I’m asleep the world cannot touch or try to pick at the true me. I wont let one man tell me I’m unhappy but in this reality I’m not alive, I’m a walking image of the people who love me and the drugs that made me. So if you want to know when it ends I shall let you know when you RSVP me. I will tell you how it ends and what I will do to soak up the victory that I longed for so so long. So look at me and tell me what you see cause that image you see is not the true me.
Blessed are the ones who love me and bless are the ones who risk there ass for us peasants. We own this world full of filth.
Kill off the last of what is left as I sit their motionless on a sheet of hot stones and no tears. I love it yet no longer feel it.
Kill me!