Recipe for Suicide

 

Cross the

Roads of nightmares
Rivers of pain
Ridges of abuse
Ravines of substances

Collect the

Smell of despair
Sound of broken dreams
Sight of eternity

Combine with

Taste of loneliness
Touch of exhaustion

Cook slowly

Final of the steps

Chaos

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DEEPer MEANing

I want to sleep off exhaustion that isn’t physical, waiting for wounds that don’t bleed to finally heal. Tears roll red hot down my throat, hidden by a smile that’s only the corners of my mouth pointing upwards. My hands run ice cold from the fever in my mind. I’m hungry for things I can’t eat and need something to brighten the darkness which isn’t light.

Needing wishes, imagining cravings

I desire foods,  but I don’t want to eat them
I long for company, yet let no one near
I ache to rest, nevertheless I remain awake
I seek music, though no song soothes my ears

I believe it’s more the feeling that they used to give than the matters itself which I long for and as they no longer supply it I grow hungry and restless. Wherever shall I find my comfort and move on from temporary distractions?