May angels lead you in.

"Dear lord,

Shut my eyes

Clear my head

Stop my heart

I'm better off dead" he says as he swallows a pill.

"Dear lord,
I surely do not deserve
Every breath I waste
Every word I utter
Death is all I taste
Nobody will even bother" Another pill is swallowed with crying eyes softly closing. How can suicide sound so peaceful when there's a war raging inside?
"Lord,
The seven seas will not shake
Humans' hearts will not break
Everyone will grieve
And then wake
Without the thought of me crossing their minds
Oh, that, I truly believe."
"Oh lord,
I prayed and prayed
You listened
I never healed
I never healed
I never healed
Mighty lord,
Forgive my selfishness," now it's four pills at a time.
"But," His body feels a little cold.
"I am so strong
And suicide is an act of strength
Some days I would measure my body length
And see how small I am walking among
Big, big, people who somehow belong
Unlike...me." another four pills shoved down his throat.
"Lord,
On the nights I had pills as a company
And knives knocking softly upon my skin
You were watching when I shouted at you to take me
You were watching when all the hate spread within"
"Take my life away
In the light of day" and Lord did listen this time.

I am me. I am the universe, I am made of galaxies and dazzling stars. I'm made of night skies and moody clouds. I am the sun, the moon and every light in between. I am a 100 year old tree and a flowing river in the middle of nowhere. I am the conceited wind that never bothers to blow in the middle of August. I am the dark before dawn. I am Pluto, I am left behind. I am Earth, I am life. I am the air you breathe and the breath of life you long for. I am death, I'm inevitable. I am haziness. I am winter; loved for my beauty and hated for the mess I cause when I decide to be myself. I am a furious act of kindness. I am whole. I am empty. I am freedom. I am injustice. I am sadness. I am the sea. I am a lost soul and a hidden one. I am a mistake occuring from a breakdown. I am a writer's block and a perfect inspiration. I am a soul. I am a body.  I am the unexplainable universe. I wish I could be more but I am me. I am me.

It feels like I'm drowning in a sea of fatigue I, and only I, had created. You will most likely feel the utter cold if you touch the water with your fingertips. Drowning, it's not as peaceful as they make it look like in movies. It's not beautiful and you don't placidly drown in slow motion because the water violently steals your every breath while you fight for one, your whole body tingles, and then you start to suffocate. The only beautiful thing about drowning is that once you drown, your body is somehow set free, I haven't reached that part...yet. After that, you're no longer a part of the physical world, you're no longer going to inhale and exhale. The worst part is, it all happened because of you, you're the one who let yourself drown in the first place but you can't be blamed, the world can sometimes get too monstrous and too bitter.

Naked Soul

An exposed self is one of the worst 8 things that exist in life. The other 7 are still unknown. The human heart is fragile. Minds can't bear too much thoughts and me and you are just two handwritten stories that were never lucky enough to be finished, we never were lucky enough to have an ending and that's strange 'cause I never got to read our beginning, I never got to read our first word that made such great stories out of us.

Unknown

You never really know someone so well as you assume you do because you haven't been stuck inside their brain. You haven't walked around inside their skin. You don't know what the voices inside their heads sound like. You haven't seen the world within their eyes or heard the ticking clock at 4 AM in the midst of silence with their ears. You never felt the touch of everything they lay their hands on. A person is not how they look or how they speak or how they go crazy over insignificant things. Even at their worst they're never really at their worst because you simply don't know what their worst is. You call them lifeless, but you don't know how vivid they are. You call them sad, but you've never seen their flashback of eternal memories of real smiles and laughter. You call them crazy, but you have no idea how sane they are. You think they're normal and inconsequential but you haven't seen how far their mind travels late at night. You've never died as many times as they did in order to live. Their fears, their dreams, their falling tears, their obsessions, their untold secrets, their reminiscence, the crinkling of their voices, the way they inhale and exhale, the way they talk, the way they walk, the way they love, the way they hate, their heartbeats and their existence. It all belongs to them. Don't you dare tell me that you know every single detail about all of these. You might breathe the same air as theirs, your feet might touch the same ground they've walked all over, you might listen to the same sounds they've listened to, you might as well be like them, but you'll never be them.

Incomplete.

I have written a million writings and a hundred thousand poems, a hundred thousand papers got crumpled and thrown away and a hundred thousand papers are hidden somewhere waiting for someone to collect all the missing words and place each one in the suitable place. Maybe the papers are empty because I’m empty, and maybe I’m too full to spit my thoughts out on paper. Maybe the words are too stubborn and they refuse to get out; maybe they fell in love with being imprisoned inside my head. Maybe they don’t want to be released; maybe they don’t know what freedom is anymore. The possibilities are endless.

Everything I write is incomplete and unfinished, and an incomplete writing that could be something turns into nothing due to the nonexistence of the right words. Just like having the great opportunity to make things right and retrieve what went missing but instead you fuck everything up by enunciating the wrong words, and poof, your great opportunity is gone.

Words are ambidextrous; they can do miracles. They can heal and they can break, it’s prodigious how one word can change everything forever, and the power of a bunch of words combined together is matchless. Sometimes you long for those three words that could make everything better and sometimes you hear this one word that means you and your soul mate have to part, never to reunite again. That tide of emotions and feelings you get when you hear those words you have always wanted to hear from that special somebody and you carry those words inside your heart for a lifetime. What about those words that shatter you and turn you into absolute nothingness? Those words that fuck everything up, those words that make it hard for you to breathe.

And once again I’m wordless and uninspired. And once again I let one of my writings remain incomplete forever.