I took the first needle I came across and the thickest thread I could find. I knew I would scream, and while it isn't how I preferred to start I forced the needle threw my lips again and again. Here I sat with my mouth sealed, as a voice of commitment.

I sat on the floor of my room, centered in a pile of tools. With a utility knife I sliced from my waist to above my belly button. My face soaked from the tears begging myself to stop. I traced the cut again and again. Each time hoping it would reveal an opening, this time it'll cut thru the fat. The pain never ceased, every second would feel like a minute, and each minute felt like all eternity. Finally I found a way and reached in. I pulled at my insides, praying something would rip. No such luck, I pulled and pulled til I felt something give way. Appendage in hand, I picked up the blade once more and sliced as if it wasn't attached to me. I lay there unable to move, unable to take any more, unable to make it stop.

In agony, I rolled to my side. My hand searched the floor for hammer and nails. Once found, I yanked the stubble of vile tubing out of myself further, enough to place a nail or 10 in it. I hammered myself to this worthless floor. The first nail felt like heartbreak, it always hurts worst the first time. The second nail felt like heartbreak, it doesn't feel any better the second time. The third nail didn't feel like anything at all, neither did any nail that followed. I lost count. Here I laid, with my insides attached to the floor for all to walk on as a sign of self worth.

I struggled for strength, yet it depleted more and more. I began to drag myself across the room, ripping my guts further from me, however mutilated, my journey was not over. At this point all sense of time is frozen, time no longer exists. There is only agony and the lack of will to endure it. A trail behind me, almost my complete body length away I came to the staple gun. I lacked the courage to cut...

I took the first needle I came across and the thickest thread I could find. I knew I would scream, and while it isn't how I preferred to start I forced the needle threw my lips again and again. Here I sat with my mouth sealed, as a voice of commitment.

I sat on the floor of my room, centered in a pile of tools. With a utility knife I sliced from my waist to above my belly button. My face soaked from the tears begging myself to stop. I traced the cut again and again. Each time hoping it would reveal an opening, this time it'll cut thru the fat. The pain never ceased, every second would feel like a minute, and each minute felt like all eternity. Finally I found a way and reached in. I pulled at my insides, praying something would rip. No such luck, I pulled and pulled til I felt something give way. Appendage in hand, I picked up the blade once more and sliced as if it wasn't attached to me. I lay there unable to move, unable to take any more, unable to make it stop.

In agony, I rolled to my side. My hand searched the floor for hammer and nails. Once found, I yanked the stubble of vile tubing out of myself further, enough to place a nail or 10 in it. I hammered myself to this worthless floor. The first nail felt like heartbreak, it always hurts worst the first time. The second nail felt like heartbreak, it doesn't feel any better the second time. The third nail didn't feel like anything at all, neither did any nail that followed. I lost count. Here I laid, with my insides attached to the floor for all to walk on as a sign of self worth.

I struggled for strength, yet it depleted more and more. I began to drag myself across the room, ripping my guts further from me, however mutilated, my journey was not over. At this point all sense of time is frozen, time no longer exists. There is only agony and the lack of will to endure it. A trail behind me, almost my complete body length away I came to the staple gun. I lacked the courage to cut my own eyes from my face with the utility knife. I chose to shut the right to show that I am shut to doing right. One lid was staked to the other, I then placed the staple gun directly in front and allowed two blunt metal blades to destroy what was within. It was quick and I did not miss what was taken from me. I decided to leave my left eye to be the only piece of me left. Here I suffered with my eye imprisoned as a vision of seeing the world in only one way.

I did not die, I didn't go into shock, I didn't do anything except feel. I felt it all, all at once. I drilled screws thru my cheeks and teeth. I shaped my ears with garden sheers. I distorted every piece of myself with every tool I could reach, and with each piece a new reason. The sacrifice of my ears was to hear more than myself. Perhaps in this twisted state, I found more comfort in not being able to hear myself mutilate myself. My teeth were simply victims in the way. The fat of my cheeks was to be punishment for the disloyal to self way of living. I gave myself no mercy and no pity.

As I stay here dying, the time came to end it all. I lit a match attached to a path to set the room ablaze. All this agony, and no one will ever know. Except the match didn't succeed at igniting the next piece, I'm too weak to move and now they all will.

Nothing ever happens like u hope it will. Even my last moments consisted of failure.