Fade

I sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at my hands. They're full of regrets and emptiness.
I'm feel like a fool for being such a coward.
Breathing in.. letting it out.
Painfully.
I realize now that everything I've been doing, all the sips, the smokes and carelessness...All have been a mask for the real reason, the real motive that pushes this self destructive behavior.
I want an easy way out.
Because I can't take the fast one.
Every blow of nicotine is a blow on the hopes for cancer.
Every turn of the glass filled with alcoholic poison is a turn for falling into endless sleep.
Self destructing because I am coward.
This shouldn't happen. Not to me.
I've got a perfect situation.
Great job, private college, comfy bed, supportive family.
But I'm garbage.
I detest every aspect of this body and of this mind that makes me.
I'm lonely.
I shouldn't feel bad for that. I'm used to it. But now it's unbearable.
I rather be alone for good.
So I'm crawling and pretending.
I'm changing my hair and drawing permanent marks on my skin.
I'm making wholes in my body.
I'm feeding on literature. Or so I think.
I'm trying to make someone notice I'm trying.
But when the moon light finds its way into the bedroom and the breeze blows colder,
I feel the water on my cheeks freeze.
And I start to pray.
For the universe.
There's no God.
I pray, I beg to not wake up. I beg to just stay asleep.
But the sun betrays me and shines through the curtains.
If I can feel it, I can see it.

I just want to disappear.