/ Since Sunday Night (12-20-23)

 

since Sunday night all i’ve wanted more than anything is to die.

when i was twelve i asked Dmitri if it was normal to think about killing myself.

isn't it normal to think about killing yourself?

 

i hope i fall asleep and never wake up.

i hope i rot away and die.

i hope i can go somewhere with cliffs or water.

do i jump? or do i drown?

 

dad cares too much.

i love you, papa.

the only time dad cried was when his mom stopped breathing.

dad stopped smoking when i was born.

when he drinks he doesn't talk. he just sits there.

he looks through me when i try to talk to him.

when he'll die, then i'll die too.

 

If you are here, God, then why do you make us suffer?

Why do you take away the people that we love?

Only a monster would be as cruel as you.

I hate you, God.

I hope you suffer like we do.

No matter how much you hate me,

You will never hate me more than I hate you.

You will never hate me more than I hate myself.