Self Destruction

imagine being afraid...of what you will do to yourself.

this is my life story.

I sit alone, in a dark room.

and watch the scarf sitting on the chair.

it looks so inviting...

I hate myself.
there is no hope
no one to share my pain with.
not that it would take away this awful emotion

and the scarf sits on the chair..

what is this scarf? am I cold? does it remind me of someone close to me?

it is a memory a future a present. of my own design. the scarf is so inviting. it fits snugly around my neck.

it is a torture a self inflicted punishment. a form of escape knowing that if I wanted I could end it all with something as innocent as the scarf around my neck.

I am an extremist. my lows are as low as I can get without committing the deed. my highs are beyond belief. and there is never a in between.

the scarf sits on my chair. and I'm at my lowest of lows.

there is no hope.
no option.
only one road to follow.
no other path of self redemption.
in my eyes I am worthless. there is nothing left.
so what is the point of inflicting myself on the people around me?

as I rock back wards and forwards hugging my knees close the scarf sits on my chair.

I am all alone. there is no other path. no point in my existence.

I reach up to my scarf. my release. my failure.

and tie it round my neck.

pulling the ends tighter and tighter.

I stumble to the mirror and watch my face change colour.

tighter and tighter...

I cough and cannot recall the air into my lungs.

my head swims...

my eyes water
and my life begins to fade.

but then my hands go limp no longer able to sustain the pull

the scarf loosens. my escape. my release taken when it was nearly complete.

against my will I cough and this time air returns to my lungs.

I cry in desperation knowing that I was so close knowing what I could have done.

I hate myself.

my escape cannot be.

and so using the hated scarf I repeat what I have done over and over to punish myself.

for not being able to complete it

for being me.

for being a coward

I stop eventually. and sit in the dark facing my scarf.

I rock backwards and forwards

and repeat to myself..

you are all alone.

nobody gives a damn.

a voice calls to me from the kitchen telling me that lunch is ready.

I stand infront of the mirror.

my eyes are dry the puffyness gone long ago.

I straighten my hair

put on a happy smile and walk out to have my meal

and to pretend that nothing is wrong.