It’s dark in here, in my body, in my head, in my life.
I take a breath and watch 5 seconds tick by.
Everything flashes before my eyes.
All reflected in the knife blade in my hand.
It looks brighter than my life.
Part of me wants to stop myself.
The rest of me wants to slash and gash until my blood runs thick across the floor of my kitchen and the light fades from my eyes.
Another deep breath.
5 seconds tick by.
I wonder what will happen to the responsibilities in my life.
Who will water my plants?
Who will work my jobs?
Who will be the mother to my children.
Who will look after my pets.
Not me, I’ll just be another statistic.
My non life in the shiny blade of a knife.
I feel nothing.
I realize how tired I am. Exhausted even. The kind of tired that a nap can’t fix. A week of good sleep won’t even fix it.
I’m life tired.
I see it all in the knife.
With a breath, and the tick of seconds passing by.
But the weight of my responsibilities hold me down, keep me here, ground me to the fact that I can’t.
I can’t give up.
I can’t stop fighting.
As much as I want to.
As much as I yearn to.
As much as this life is slowly killing me one day at a time, one stress at a time, one failure at a time.
I want to give up.
But I can’t.
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