coffee

Dying Is Not Easy


Posted by Stephanie Burnett on May 01, 2000 at 19:17:24:

Yesterday I died, I died yesterday. I watched my body let me go, it gave up after only minimum fighting. I guess that is what I wanted though. I looked down at my frail, limp body, lying there in the bathroom floor. Covered in blood that had leaked out of my ripped and slit open wrists. Wriggling from all the drugs I had inserted into it. My mouth twisted as though I was screaming, screaming from beyond death. My hands are tucked into a fold beneath my breasts, holding my stomach, which seemed to hurt so much. My chest is still heaving, even though life is no longer in it. I feel my heart still beating, as I am lifting out of the body. I look at this person, this person I used to be. That person died so long ago, I had to kill the body too. I had to donít you see. They will never understand, they will look at my remains and think, what was wrong with her, what a freak. They will never understand the immense pain I went through, they donít know what feeling yourself dying is like. I felt that every day of my life, EVERY FUCKING DAY! I just had to kill the body, stop that incapable little heart from beating. Why canít you people see that. I didnít choose to be this way, it just happened. Life just happens, same as death. Yesterday I died, I died yesterday. I watched my body let me go, it gave up after only minimum fighting. I guess that is what I wanted though. I looked down at my frail, limp body, lying there in the bathroom floor. Covered in blood that had leaked out of my ripped and slit open wrists. Wriggling from all the drugs I had inserted into it. My mouth twisted as though I was screaming, screaming from beyond death. My hands are tucked into a fold beneath my breasts, holding my stomach, which seemed to hurt so much. My chest is still heaving, even though life is no longer in it. I feel my heart still beating, as I am lifting out of the body. I look at this person, this person I used to be. That person died so long ago, I had to kill the body too. I had to donít you see. They will never understand, they will look at my remains and think, what was wrong with her, what a freak. They will never understand the immense pain I went through, they donít know what feeling yourself dying is like. I felt that every day of my life, EVERY FUCKING DAY! I just had to kill the body, stop that incapable little heart from beating. Why canít you people see that. I didnít choose to be this way, it just happened. Life just happens, same as death. Yesterday I died, I died yesterday. I watched my body let me go, it gave up after only minimum fighting. I guess that is what I wanted though. I looked down at my frail, limp body, lying there in the bathroom floor. Covered in blood that had leaked out of my ripped and slit open wrists. Wriggling from all the drugs I had inserted into it. My mouth twisted as though I was screaming, screaming from beyond death. My hands are tucked into a fold beneath my breasts, holding my stomach, which seemed to hurt so much. My chest is still heaving, even though life is no longer in it. I feel my heart still beating, as I am lifting out of the body. I look at this person, this person I used to be. That person died so long ago, I had to kill the body too. I had to donít you see. They will never understand, they will look at my remains and think, what was wrong with her, what a freak. They will never understand the immense pain I went through, they donít know what feeling yourself dying is like. I felt that every day of my life, EVERY FUCKING DAY! I just had to kill the body, stop that incapable little heart from beating. Why canít you people see that. I didnít choose to be this way, it just happened. Life just happens, same as death.






[ Dog-O-Matic essay board ]