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Array
(
[sid] => 71107
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Plastic Bag
[time] => 2004-11-11 16:08:53
[hometext] => I walk the thin line between life and death, which seems to be growing thicker with every breath...
[bodytext] => Pull the plastic bag over my head, so badly want to be dead. Don't want to take this pain, all my hope and dreams are slain. Place it 'round my head and pull it tight, reminding myself not to fight. I twist the end, and breath deeply in, holding it shut around my chin. Inhale, exhale, just like always. I stand right there, in a daze. Am I doing this? Is it for real? On the letter of my life, is this the seal? Inhale, exhale, just a little harder. Surely I'm not a maurder.... In and out, quickly now, warm persperation lines my brow. Pull the plastic away from my nose. This is not unlike how my life goes, waiting for my final rest, panic chrushing my emptying chest. In focus, out of focus, my eyes waver. My mind still on my shiny razor. My mind tingles like static buzzing in my ears, going over in my head all my fears. Sway and swoon; I think my feet are still on the ground... Finally some stregnth is found to rip the bag from my head and face, looking for an open space. Sweat covers my cheeks and skin, it feels like such a sin.... The world around me turns different hughs, I step out of my bathroom w/ more to lose. What have I done? Has the beginning of my ending begun? Is this how I will forever be? Trying to escape the nothingness known as me? [comments] => 3 [counter] => 164 [topic] => 36 [informant] => WorthlesSanity666 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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