Tired of Living

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And I am starting to learn that when someone says ‘I want to die’ it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re holding a gun to their head, ready to jump from a forty story building or swallow the pills they’re hiding under the bed. ‘I want to die’ could be the same as ‘Look at me. I’m in so much pain. I’m failing my classes on purpose. It has been five days since I last took a shower and my breath smells like too much alcohol.’ ‘I want to die’ could be the very definition of ‘I don’t care about anything anymore, and I need someone to help me’ and of course you’d have to help them because they are tired of life or at the very least—send them to someone you know they can trust.

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A Funeral In My Heart

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Loneliness is having a party
in my mind again and that’s okay.

 
I am surrounded 
by souls.

 
Some treat me like
sunlight and some treat me like
moonlight.

 
I cry myself to sleep
and no one knows that the truth
about loneliness is that it protects
ones heart from everything but itself.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart, 
and the casket is too small for my
childish soul that screams ‘Let me out!’

 
I want to live without thinking
about who will miss me when I’m gone
because I’m tired of writing all these goodbye
letters that mean nothing without a recipient.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart
and there are no flowers because 
nobody wants to give flowers to a suicide.

 
I wish I can say sorry for being 
so selfish but that would mean apologizing
for the nights I’ve tried to hold it all together
like rebuilding Rome for a day—I have nothing to say.

 
There’s a funeral in my heart
and I am all alone here with the lights closed
because the window might glow and I am not light.

 
I am not light.