Every thing and Nothing

Weak Pain

I hate myself, as I sit here, body shaking but no tears flow down my cheeks. I'm a waste of space and I know it. Pain, can you feel it, pain, can you breathe it in? Let it fill your lungs and choke you. Do you feel it. I hate myself for being so weak. Weak weak weak. Living is so hard. Blood. Blood. Blood. A untimely death. You will find me, water filled to the top, blood running along with the tap, vomit sitting in the toilet and over the sides, not flushed, my eyes closed and my lungs not filling. I'm weak but the pain is so good.