Life

I hate my life. I say it here because I don’t have an audience, but I fucking hate it. I need it to end. I’m ready. I’ve mourned my existence already. 

Sometimes I sleep naked with the windows open when it’s freezing cold, hoping I’ll freeze to death. Sometimes I’ll sleep with laces tied around my limbs and my neck, hoping the blood stops circulating. And those aren’t even hopes, they’re dreams. I dream to die. 

I don’t want to eat anymore. Maybe I’ll die starving. I hope so. I hope to faint one day, and just never wake up.

I hope to be loved one day. I feel like if I die, I’ll be shown a lotta love going into the afterlife. And that’ll be enough to fulfill me. I need to be loved the way I love. I need to be loved. And no one does. I’m lonely and I wish to die