I’ve been running away for a long time. I’ve been pretending to be someone else. I’ve covered my scars and pushed everything mine to the back of my mind. I’ve been trying to figure out if the life as someone else, someone well and healthy, would be worth living. I’ve been looking for a reason to want to keep trying, but though they surround me I can’t seem to find any. Because life is good, but somehow I just don’t want it anyway.
I see life, but it doesn’t reach me. It’s just there outside of me. Untouchable.
Death though … Death seems so sweet.