Sitting on the veranda, the blistering heat seeps through even the wooden slats above me and the breeze ruffles through my curls, well, not really but my imagination is positively more impressive than reality. I pretend every atom of life is following a pre-cursed, sorry, -ordained, plan or at least the plan constructed from mint humbugs and pineapple peardrops I devised at sickly sixteen.
It all amounts to nothing, this anguish, anxiety. Nobody believes that it’s even real, yet I feel every pulse burning with pain even in my sleep, I need to wake to breathe. I inhale darkness, at least it stops temporarily. I’d be happy for a void, numbness, respite from this crazy heat inside my mind, floating protons magnetise electrons before my eyes, veins present hexagonal shapes and glowing blue formulae. Shining. Torturing me to solve life’s algebra.
I stop for a moment, and laugh hysterically. X equals death. It’s the only way out, suddenly I feel serene, I have purpose, I know it’s all going to end and that’s priceless. You can take my everything, but you can’t take the beat from my heart or the flowing blood from my purple ventricles. Voices giggle and jitter in sane more than ever before.
The fish wire wraps around my wrists, digs into my skin, slicing open veins. Stinging like a million papercuts, water splashing the wounds, the sensation overtakes my emotions, tears run away from my eyes clogging up my thick liquid lashes. Black streams through a bronze desert, the mirage was real. I knew it was ending soon, wheezing, struggling for breath, but it’s what I want and now I can say nothing more, or anything less.