Dear anybody who cares,
I hope this letter reaches you in time
Before the beautiful silver metal kisses my hand
And the crimson red liquid makes love to my skin
I am sinking
The population of voices in my head increasing
Seems like every minute a new voice is born
My mind can no longer process the random words they speak
It can no longer fight back with positivity
It's settling in the negativity
The silver metal over by the kitchen counter calls to me
Like the forbidden fruit called to Eve
These voices cheer me on
I'm drawn to it
I'm gradually becoming a puppet to them
I can feel my will slipping away
Help me!
Please
© Khaytee
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