Out-Of-Body

That's my body there. Right there. Submerged in the overflowing bathtub. Pills stuck in my throat. Toaster floating aimlessly into my breasts.

My parents aren't home yet, but they'll see me. Somehow in a different way than I'm seeing myself. And it's strange because I'm having a literally outer-body experience. Standing over what was me in this new me. One that I can't touch or feel.

From this perspective, I can't help but to think how pretty I am. I like the way my hair flows in the water, intertwined with dissolving bubbles. And my legs are so relaxed, no hair on them. Naked and alone.

When I said I wanted this, I really did. But now I think that I don't.

I reach out and run my fingers across my face. Even when dead, my corpse erupts in goosebumps that I can't understand. Then I force my hand through the corpse, but it just sits there, still in it's own suicide. I want to be sucked back inside of the empty shell, but I'm not.

I want to cry. I feel like crying, but there's no tears streaming down my now-face. My heartless one. It hurts because, staring at my prone and exposed shell, I realize that I just gave up so much. The world. My family. My friends. Myself. Everything that I held dear is gone and I can't go back.

©SelfTitled, 2017