I want to split my head on a fire axe

I want to be found, dangling in a closet

I want to be a fine red mist on the front of a train

I want to be pulled in four by horses and rope

 

I want to be skewered atop a church steeple,

on display for all to see, as in the ancient days

I want to decorate my room with my flesh,

and turn my sanctuary into a meat locker

 

I want to dangle by chains, and hooked up to contraptions

Switching between induced euphoria, and excruciating pain.

Hanging there, until my heart grown too weak to keep beating

 

I want to loose all feeling,

and fade away into oblivion.

 

I want to be rid of these scenes,

my imagination captivated by leaving the biggest

mess of myself I possibly could.

My world view, framed through the idea

of not staying alive any longer than absolutely necessary.

 

I don’t even fell that way anymore,

that's just where my head immediately goes,

every time.

 

A decade and a half here almost.

A habit that seems so impossible to break.

Chains I’m not sure will ever go away,

not on this earth.

 

It is by the grace of God, I don’t want to anymore.

Please, just let my fight mean something bigger than me…

To somebody…