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vertigo
vertigoI write all my stories in less than 15 m
Autoplay OFF  •  7 months ago
Me, waking up in the morning. This isn't really a story it just me, screaming into the internet.

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by vertigo

How am I supposed to go to school every day when all I can do is daydream about suicide?

The whole world is so loud

And I'm so small, here, in the blank, bleak space between life and death.

I want to rush forward into something. I want to bite down on both barrels of a shotgun and inhale bullets, exhale release.

I want to drizzle poison onto my tongue, I want to burn. I want to set my life on fire and close my eyes. I want someone to rob me on the street. I want to die I want to die I want to die I want

I woke up this morning. I woke up and it was bright and quiet and I imagined I had razors for fingers as I scratched my wrists, my neck.

I woke up and I am not a survivor. I don't think I have ever been a survivor. My teeth are iron bars and my soul is in the cell of my skin and I want to burst out, I want to let myself dissolve.

Hello. This is me and I am wearing the face of a mirror. Look at me. See yourself. I am the smallest speck of self and I want to blow away.

Lord I am standing on the edge of a cliff and I do not want wings. I want an ending.

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