Things From The NightMature

Oh god I need to throw up, 

get these toxins out of my system,

get your taste out of my mouth,

the feel of your hands out of my skin.

[]

I'm sick,

I'm burning up

no one to hold my hand this time,

to sit by my bedside,

run a cold cloth over my overheated forehead.

[]

need to find the razors,

my sisters hidden them,

only water for me now,

cold dirt-filled grave,

[]

I'm drowning in despair,

I kind of want to escape this world

if only for a little while,

[]

before I'm brought back by the beeping of machines,

the sterile starkness of a 

hospital room's blank white walls.

[]

you see, I can never find to 

to get a way out

of this universe

for an eternity,

[]

and I'm not sure if I 

ever had the willpower

to fully leave 

in the first place.

The End

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