The Day I Decided to Die


The day I decided to die
came slowly.
I didn’t think about who I’d hurt.
It just needed to happen.
If it’s possible to feel nothing,
then I did. My mind was empty.
I had dumped the contents, recycled the
memories. I was a newborn baby – no meaning
in anything. A blank slate. An unwashed
white shirt. My mind had been
screaming at me for months. Worthless.
Unlovable. Stalker. Crazy. Bitch.
When the voices faded, my stress, my fear, my sadness
had all disappeared. I wasn’t happy.

I was free.