118th Post

To say the truth.

I am sick of every damn thing.

Sick of life.
Sick of myself.
Sick of my fucked up attitude.
Sick of what i see happening around me.

At times i ponder.
Am i the right one for her?
What do i have to hide from her?

At times i ponder also.
At taking the coward's way out.
And leaving others to clear the mess that i had left behind.

There are times in which.
I honestly felt like quitting.
Giving up.
Soldiering on no more.

To just take a razor.
And slice open every single vein and artery.
And let my life blood flow out.

As my eyes slowly turn dull.
My mind slowly shuts down.

Would i be happy at the prospects of death?
Or would i be a entity that will live in regrets forever?

I don't know.

Is there no rest for the poor disheartened and confused soul ?
Subjected to mental tortures.
With each tick of the second hand.
A daily ritual.

Slowly.
Nothing is going to be left of my tattered mind.
I am nothing left.
But a shell of my former self.

A zombie.

My mindless soul.
Imprisoned inside a rotting shell.
What used to be my body.

Slowly fading away.
Into nothing.
Into silence.