Myself
Myself.
Death. Like I’m slipping away, like I’m drowning, falling in a black pit, repeating prayer after prayer, without even realizing it. Our father, thou art in heaven, Falling falling falling, sinking sinking sinking. I can’t even breathe, can’t even fucking breathe. The water’s so shallow, and my lungs are ready to explode, I’m running running running.
Hallowed thee by name, Please God, please please please, I’m begging, hands on my knees, coughing up vomit and blood. Self destruction, it’s fucking self-destruction, you’re fucking destroying yourself, what have you done, Babe? What have you done. She talks to me at a million miles and hour, so I can’t understand her, I can’t understand what she’s saying, I can’t understand what she’s doing. But I’m screaming, I’m screaming, NO NO NO, YOU DID THIS. YOU DID THIS NOT ME. But she’s not listening, and I’m praying for mercy.
Tell me, what does it feel like, what does it feel like, doll, to be— Dead? To be dead? To be dying, to be praying for mercy so you don’t burn in hell? To have let self-destruction control your life until it’s too late, too too late? You think I did this?
She’s laughing, it’s bitter and cold, and she’s shaking her head, laughing still, shaking my shoulders shaking them and I’m fucking crying like a baby, on my knees and crying crying crying. On your knees, beg for mercy, pray for death, go ahead, baby. Go ahead.
We’re defragmented unglued broken messed up searching for something; can’t fucking find it, can’t fucking find it. Pray one last time, just one last fucking time, but nobody’s listening. She’s still laughing, shaking my shoulders, taking no pity. It’s all your fault, child. All your fault. NO IT’S NOT. No no no no no no no no no no no no no – a mantra, and mantra, over and over and over again in my head; I have to prove her wrong because it’s not my fault it can’t be my fault, what happened – what’s happening, it can’t be my fault.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. And I’m running again, my head’s ready to implode, explode, fall to the ground and splatter around, pretty decoration for the pavement, as I run, faster faster faster. But she follows me, she follows me to the ladder, she follows me up it, she follows me across the roof in a slow, smug manner – her face is ugly, God, it’s so fucking ugly. I want to rip it off, claw it, detach it and throw it away. Bony and taunt, hideous.
And I’m praying again and again and again, the same prayer, redeeming myself. Our father, thou art in heaven hallowed thee by name thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Like somehow, in some magical miraculous way, this will make my demon disappear, she will fly up into a burst of flames and disafuckingpear. I am in the box, in the confession box, telling Father everything, and he’s redeeming me, making me clean again.
But then the box is disappearing, and I’m back on the rooftop again, and she’s giggling, sucking on a cigarette, staring at me – she’s won, she’s won, she knows she’s won, and she’s just fucking waiting for me to give in. Face it, babe. Just face it. I won. At least you’ll die perfect. Perfect face, perfect eyes, perfect body. I glare at her, and scream, bringing my hands up to my face, digging my nails into my forehead and dragging them down down down. Over and over again, the same prayer going again, Our father our father our father – how’s it go? Thou art in heaven thou art in heaven, God help me, God fucking help me, please please please.
He’s not listening. He’s not listening, and nobody else is either. You wanna jump, go right a-fucking-head. Go right ahead. There’s nobody stopping you. I want to destroy her, I want to shove her off the building. Remember the pact, doll face. I go you go. Like Romeo and Juliet. Except a bit more twisted. Can’t get more twisted than Romeo and Juliet. Only you can. Only you fucking can. We’re like Bonnie and Clyde, running from murder, we’re like every fucking twisted couple in the book, except we’re not a fucking couple – she’s my-fucking-self; a demon of me, I’m just waiting for her to be exorcised, waiting for her to disappear, but she won’t.
The ledge of the roof, now, and she’s smirking, again, taking another drag, her eyes sparkling with manic temptation and hatred. It’s your funeral, you can fucking cry if you want to. Shut up shut up shut up, I’m telling her, still right beside the ledge, still clawing at my face, only now it’s bleeding, red-stained water dripping down onto the cement. Like you didn’t want this. I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t you fucking bitch, I didn’t. Liar.
And then I’m praying again, praying praying praying, trying to get rid of her, repeating it over and over, still, leaving my newly wretched face alone, hugging myself, and I’m vomiting; I can feel every one of my ribs, I can reach behind me and feel all the vertebrae, the disgusting fucking vertebrae. It’s your perfection. She’s chuckling now. Yours yours yours. The vomit splatters off the edge of the roof tumbles towards the ground. I wrinkle my nose just as she wrinkles hers. That’s getting old. Shut up shut up shut up. Your system shuts down after a while, you know, not listening, not listening, I can’t fucking listen. Refuses food at all, doesn’t let you regulate, never lets you eat a cheeseburger, or ice cream – that’s what we worked towards, isn’t it? Me and you, we worked towards that, we finally got that. Why don’t you want it now?
And I can’t breathe again, I’m gripping the ledge so tightly my fingers turn china porcelain white, blood dripping from my face from my mouth, feeling like somebody had poured acid down my throat and I was burning from inside out. Burning burning burning. They say you can see your own death coming before it even happens. Can you, doll? Can you see it.
I can fucking see it, alright. I can see it, I can taste it, I can feel it on my fingertips, burning and tearing. Only she’s with me; she’ll die with me, I can tell. But I don’t want her to go any-fucking-where with anymore, I want her gone gone GONE.
I growl, lashing out at her, but she takes one step back, and I’m on the ground, on my face, lying in ruby red paint, mixed with salt-water, burning the scratches. She’s such a malevolent bitch, I want to be as harmful as her, I want to hurt her so fucking bad, but she’s not fucking realistic, I can’t do anything to her. And I can’t get her out of my mind. Our father thou art in heaven hallowed thee by name thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Dear God, I’m lying on the roof, staring up at the stars and her fucking ugly face, shuddering, tremors tearing through me like a bullet, faster faster, burning, tearing, making me bleed. Our father,
-You’re not serious, are you? You’re going to just drop off? Give up.
And I’m clawing at the air, choking and sobbing, vomiting and growling, stumbling and tripping, screaming for her to just fuck off. But then she’s laughing all over again, and I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care. I’m just sitting there, letting the acidic feeling take over me, burn through me some more, and she sits down again, across from me.
What? Just like that? We’re done? Your little fit is done? Go home, babe. Go home, eat something and then flush it away down the toilet. There’s no getting better.
I wasn’t up here to die, I tell her numbly. I wasn’t, I wasn’t. I was dying long before that, I know I was, but goddamnit, you were driving me to it. Just go. Away.
It doesn’t work like that.
Of course it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t just work like that, because you don’t listen anyways, I’m telling her, covering my ears, trying to get away from her voice, but I can still hear it. And the tremors are running through my body again, and I’m screaming, and she’s laughing, it’s fucking déjà vu, I swear to God. We keep going around and around in the same circle.
But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care, she’s just taunting me, either way – doesn’t care doesn’t care doesn’t care. Finally, finally, finally, I stand up, and I lash out again, and I want to push her off the roof. You go I go. Remember that. Every fucking crazy pact in the world. We die together, darling. Together. Tell me, doll, what does it feel like, to be dying?
But I’m already dead.
Already dead.
Are you? What does it feel like?
Defeat. Self-destruction is defeat.
And, how does that feel?
Failure. I am a failure.
Repeat your prayer, baby, count your blessings, beg for mercy, cleanse yourself. This is all your own fault.
My-fucking-Self and Death.
Hallowed thee by name, Please God, please please please, I’m begging, hands on my knees, coughing up vomit and blood. Self destruction, it’s fucking self-destruction, you’re fucking destroying yourself, what have you done, Babe? What have you done. She talks to me at a million miles and hour, so I can’t understand her, I can’t understand what she’s saying, I can’t understand what she’s doing. But I’m screaming, I’m screaming, NO NO NO, YOU DID THIS. YOU DID THIS NOT ME. But she’s not listening, and I’m praying for mercy.
Tell me, what does it feel like, what does it feel like, doll, to be— Dead? To be dead? To be dying, to be praying for mercy so you don’t burn in hell? To have let self-destruction control your life until it’s too late, too too late? You think I did this?
She’s laughing, it’s bitter and cold, and she’s shaking her head, laughing still, shaking my shoulders shaking them and I’m fucking crying like a baby, on my knees and crying crying crying. On your knees, beg for mercy, pray for death, go ahead, baby. Go ahead.
We’re defragmented unglued broken messed up searching for something; can’t fucking find it, can’t fucking find it. Pray one last time, just one last fucking time, but nobody’s listening. She’s still laughing, shaking my shoulders, taking no pity. It’s all your fault, child. All your fault. NO IT’S NOT. No no no no no no no no no no no no no – a mantra, and mantra, over and over and over again in my head; I have to prove her wrong because it’s not my fault it can’t be my fault, what happened – what’s happening, it can’t be my fault.
Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. And I’m running again, my head’s ready to implode, explode, fall to the ground and splatter around, pretty decoration for the pavement, as I run, faster faster faster. But she follows me, she follows me to the ladder, she follows me up it, she follows me across the roof in a slow, smug manner – her face is ugly, God, it’s so fucking ugly. I want to rip it off, claw it, detach it and throw it away. Bony and taunt, hideous.
And I’m praying again and again and again, the same prayer, redeeming myself. Our father, thou art in heaven hallowed thee by name thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Like somehow, in some magical miraculous way, this will make my demon disappear, she will fly up into a burst of flames and disafuckingpear. I am in the box, in the confession box, telling Father everything, and he’s redeeming me, making me clean again.
But then the box is disappearing, and I’m back on the rooftop again, and she’s giggling, sucking on a cigarette, staring at me – she’s won, she’s won, she knows she’s won, and she’s just fucking waiting for me to give in. Face it, babe. Just face it. I won. At least you’ll die perfect. Perfect face, perfect eyes, perfect body. I glare at her, and scream, bringing my hands up to my face, digging my nails into my forehead and dragging them down down down. Over and over again, the same prayer going again, Our father our father our father – how’s it go? Thou art in heaven thou art in heaven, God help me, God fucking help me, please please please.
He’s not listening. He’s not listening, and nobody else is either. You wanna jump, go right a-fucking-head. Go right ahead. There’s nobody stopping you. I want to destroy her, I want to shove her off the building. Remember the pact, doll face. I go you go. Like Romeo and Juliet. Except a bit more twisted. Can’t get more twisted than Romeo and Juliet. Only you can. Only you fucking can. We’re like Bonnie and Clyde, running from murder, we’re like every fucking twisted couple in the book, except we’re not a fucking couple – she’s my-fucking-self; a demon of me, I’m just waiting for her to be exorcised, waiting for her to disappear, but she won’t.
The ledge of the roof, now, and she’s smirking, again, taking another drag, her eyes sparkling with manic temptation and hatred. It’s your funeral, you can fucking cry if you want to. Shut up shut up shut up, I’m telling her, still right beside the ledge, still clawing at my face, only now it’s bleeding, red-stained water dripping down onto the cement. Like you didn’t want this. I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t you fucking bitch, I didn’t. Liar.
And then I’m praying again, praying praying praying, trying to get rid of her, repeating it over and over, still, leaving my newly wretched face alone, hugging myself, and I’m vomiting; I can feel every one of my ribs, I can reach behind me and feel all the vertebrae, the disgusting fucking vertebrae. It’s your perfection. She’s chuckling now. Yours yours yours. The vomit splatters off the edge of the roof tumbles towards the ground. I wrinkle my nose just as she wrinkles hers. That’s getting old. Shut up shut up shut up. Your system shuts down after a while, you know, not listening, not listening, I can’t fucking listen. Refuses food at all, doesn’t let you regulate, never lets you eat a cheeseburger, or ice cream – that’s what we worked towards, isn’t it? Me and you, we worked towards that, we finally got that. Why don’t you want it now?
And I can’t breathe again, I’m gripping the ledge so tightly my fingers turn china porcelain white, blood dripping from my face from my mouth, feeling like somebody had poured acid down my throat and I was burning from inside out. Burning burning burning. They say you can see your own death coming before it even happens. Can you, doll? Can you see it.
I can fucking see it, alright. I can see it, I can taste it, I can feel it on my fingertips, burning and tearing. Only she’s with me; she’ll die with me, I can tell. But I don’t want her to go any-fucking-where with anymore, I want her gone gone GONE.
I growl, lashing out at her, but she takes one step back, and I’m on the ground, on my face, lying in ruby red paint, mixed with salt-water, burning the scratches. She’s such a malevolent bitch, I want to be as harmful as her, I want to hurt her so fucking bad, but she’s not fucking realistic, I can’t do anything to her. And I can’t get her out of my mind. Our father thou art in heaven hallowed thee by name thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Dear God, I’m lying on the roof, staring up at the stars and her fucking ugly face, shuddering, tremors tearing through me like a bullet, faster faster, burning, tearing, making me bleed. Our father,
-You’re not serious, are you? You’re going to just drop off? Give up.
And I’m clawing at the air, choking and sobbing, vomiting and growling, stumbling and tripping, screaming for her to just fuck off. But then she’s laughing all over again, and I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care. I’m just sitting there, letting the acidic feeling take over me, burn through me some more, and she sits down again, across from me.
What? Just like that? We’re done? Your little fit is done? Go home, babe. Go home, eat something and then flush it away down the toilet. There’s no getting better.
I wasn’t up here to die, I tell her numbly. I wasn’t, I wasn’t. I was dying long before that, I know I was, but goddamnit, you were driving me to it. Just go. Away.
It doesn’t work like that.
Of course it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t just work like that, because you don’t listen anyways, I’m telling her, covering my ears, trying to get away from her voice, but I can still hear it. And the tremors are running through my body again, and I’m screaming, and she’s laughing, it’s fucking déjà vu, I swear to God. We keep going around and around in the same circle.
But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care, she’s just taunting me, either way – doesn’t care doesn’t care doesn’t care. Finally, finally, finally, I stand up, and I lash out again, and I want to push her off the roof. You go I go. Remember that. Every fucking crazy pact in the world. We die together, darling. Together. Tell me, doll, what does it feel like, to be dying?
But I’m already dead.
Already dead.
Are you? What does it feel like?
Defeat. Self-destruction is defeat.
And, how does that feel?
Failure. I am a failure.
Repeat your prayer, baby, count your blessings, beg for mercy, cleanse yourself. This is all your own fault.
My-fucking-Self and Death.