I want to die. Can't hide that fact any longer. The relief of feeling my last breath escape my lips would just be wonderful. At last it'd all be over. No more trying to pretend that I've ever been good enough. No more hoping that I'll ever achieve anything worthwhile with my life. Maybe dying is the only good thing I'll ever do. Maybe killing myself is the only thing I was ever meant to do. I should've done it a long time ago. I wish I hadn't wimped out of overdosing when I was 14, took enough to make me sick but nowhere near enough to die. There have been so many times when the urge to die nearly overcame me. I should've let it. I should never have lived in the first place. Born with a messed up body, not breathing. Why didn't the doctors just let me die then? Why can't I just fucking die now? I stood by the railway bridge tonight, willing myself to climb up and just let go. I couldn't move. I couldn't do it because other people would be hurt by my death. That's all though, I couldn't care less about my own life. All I want is to end it. I want to smash my body into pieces and finally be free. I want to be in pain before I go, one last punishment. And then feel it slowly slip away, feel myself slip away, until there's nothing anymore. Until I'm nothing. And then after a while the memory of me will fade from people's minds, and it really will be as if I had never existed. The way things should have been all along.