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I am suicidal- I think. Just not ready for life's challenges suddenly thrown my way, I don't wish to be here any longer. Why prolong a stay that has become a hedge? Not ready to go to an eternal rest, yet Not ready to continue with this pace. I am suicidal. Not suicidal. Just not ready. Just wanna break. Just wanna rest. I know I'm not going to. Jocelyn, she's gone. Too many pills they say. I don't wanna go. Just wanna rest. I am suicial. I want to kill these feelings in me. I don't want to hurt. Just wanna rest. A shell is hidden deep within pushing outward, fading in. Oppertunity arises once again an ultimate victory to my chagrin. Pushed away, comes back stronger more subtle, a force majeure; overtakes unwilling personage hopelessness being its pledge. Unable to communicate reaching a stalemate unwilling to try beginning to terrify myself The November house has called me back after ignoring my pleas for so long. I had painted smiling faces on its empty windows and prayed someday it might be true. The November house knew all along- darkened memories cannot be painted without destroying their worth. Those who best knew the November house turned away, confused at its portrayal. Truth hidden turned beauty black. Surrounded by critics telling me what to do; I pushed out, away from them but only hit those closest to me. The critics told me to swim, but the November house was made to fly- and I must follow. The November house knew all along. |
| On this page: I am suicidal. I think. Shield of Silence. The November House |
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