Dear Suicide,
Let me tell you what pain feels like. I've always had a very high tolerance for physical pain and a very low tolerance for emotional pain. Combine this with a gift for expression and read on.
First, it's like your head will explode from the pressure generated by life's little "hiccups". Ironic, that. Anyway, when you've collapsed from the weight of your head, and banging it on the floor no longer helps, you contemplate the amount of force it would take to shove a sharp object into your belly. At this point, everything is extremely vivid, and you begin to look forward to using your blood and guts to paint the walls. Lovely picture, that. Then you realize that you're a coward, and that would only stop your own suffering. You see, at this point you still don't want anyone else to feel as badly as you do. That makes the situation worse, so you try to calm down enough so everyone will stop worrying about you. You even make an effort to fix your problems. You calmly sit around and wait for the phone to ring. It doesn't. None of your problems have been solved. You realize that everything will be the same tomorrow. At this point you have a raging migraine from stress and crying. You don't want to cry anymore, so you stop talking to people about what's wrong. Then you just stop talking. You get high so your brain will go numb and your tear ducts will dry up. You go to bed. You can't sleep, because you can't shake the feeling of panic rising into your throat that says tomorrow will be worse. You cry some more because you are no longer high. You eventually fall into a dreamless sleep because there is nothing else. You wake up. You spend another morning fighting the tears, and, trying to make sense of it all, you feel the panic rising. You try to stop it by keeping it in your throat. Anything to keep it from going into your head. If you can keep it in your throat, it won't go to your head. It doesn't matter, though. There are no guns. You don't know how to use one anyway. You've always been afraid of them. How prophetic.
Sincerely,
Girl
Let me tell you what pain feels like. I've always had a very high tolerance for physical pain and a very low tolerance for emotional pain. Combine this with a gift for expression and read on.
First, it's like your head will explode from the pressure generated by life's little "hiccups". Ironic, that. Anyway, when you've collapsed from the weight of your head, and banging it on the floor no longer helps, you contemplate the amount of force it would take to shove a sharp object into your belly. At this point, everything is extremely vivid, and you begin to look forward to using your blood and guts to paint the walls. Lovely picture, that. Then you realize that you're a coward, and that would only stop your own suffering. You see, at this point you still don't want anyone else to feel as badly as you do. That makes the situation worse, so you try to calm down enough so everyone will stop worrying about you. You even make an effort to fix your problems. You calmly sit around and wait for the phone to ring. It doesn't. None of your problems have been solved. You realize that everything will be the same tomorrow. At this point you have a raging migraine from stress and crying. You don't want to cry anymore, so you stop talking to people about what's wrong. Then you just stop talking. You get high so your brain will go numb and your tear ducts will dry up. You go to bed. You can't sleep, because you can't shake the feeling of panic rising into your throat that says tomorrow will be worse. You cry some more because you are no longer high. You eventually fall into a dreamless sleep because there is nothing else. You wake up. You spend another morning fighting the tears, and, trying to make sense of it all, you feel the panic rising. You try to stop it by keeping it in your throat. Anything to keep it from going into your head. If you can keep it in your throat, it won't go to your head. It doesn't matter, though. There are no guns. You don't know how to use one anyway. You've always been afraid of them. How prophetic.
Sincerely,
Girl
i hope things are better.
i really like the way you crafted this, the image makes complete sense.
unfortunatley!