i'm not sure when i died. i have no idea what killed me, either. maybe i loved someone too much.
i could see myself eating to death. bottomlessly drinking myself to death. i've tried killing myself before and had failed. or maybe not at all. i swallowed a mouthful of pills and puked them up in my sleep. the ones i was supposed to take once a day before bedtime - the ones i still take. no one knew. i cleaned up the mess. i pretended it didnt happen. i went on and on without no one ever really knowing. sometimes i humour the idea that i had actually died. and life as i know it today has been the final dream. the funny fantasy i was having seconds before i had passed away. the worlds i imagine and the people i picture all are just my afterlife. heaven or hell it aint that bad. i wonder if i'll live forever.
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