Planning my suicide

Planning my suicide lessens the pain. The pain of not belonging, not being normal, the pain of being trapped forever in the blackhole. I used to love Thanksgiving-

so I want the little turkey from target on the bed with me.

I want to be in the Hope sweatshirt and my wild leaves leggings. No socks or shoes.

I want my nails done.

And I have to write a note to the coroner how to wash my hair so the funeral director doesn't strip the color out. They will all say that even in death, she micromanaged. If a leopard could, would he?

It will be pills, lots and lots of pills. I mean a lot!

I know the routine

I know the routine.

I've told others countless times before.

I'm tired. I'm tired of trying over and over and it fails.

I'm never gonna feel decent or be a decent human being again.

I know it this time.

I've been burning bridges.

I would like to see them all one last time.

Maybe around what used to be my favorite holiday- Turkey day