Heartache

The ache in my heart can only be concealed with the taste of nicotine. It creates a comforting cloudiness in my body, keeping me warm from the cold thoughts leaking from every recess of my brain. I'd never imagined it to be this way. I have no safe haven anymore. My mind is a murderer and it craves a new soul to have under its grasp.

I haven't slept in weeks for the fear that I'll never wake again. My last meal was on April 17. I've been living off of cigarettes and coffee, hoping that it will help me survive until I can finally break free from the voices, the hatred.

I know that it's killing me, but what other choice do I have? I either let my mind win, or I die slowly from starvation, sleep deprivation, and lung cancer. Dying from those three causes doesn't really seem so bad. Letting my mind win means giving in to the monster, otherwise known as myself. That's a battle I refuse to lose.

Sure, I could do this in a much simpler way; an easy bullet through my brain and it's over. Is that really the position I'd like to put my family in, though they never have talked to me since I moved out.

I need another cigarette.

I mean, as I say, a cigarette a day keeps the voices away.