I'm tired. Tired of waiting. Being told to wait for something I don't fucking want. Tired of not knowing. Of not wanting; not being wanted. Tired of the change, the predictability, the selfishness, the hatred, the aching, the missing, the emptiness, the pain.

Sometimes the dream of sleeping taunts me. One easy way out. One quick release from being so damn tired. But I can't travel down the same endless path as so many others. One empty bottle, one quick swipe of a gleaming blade, one revolution of a metal chamber.

My sleep will come someday. God will grant me my rest. But before I reach heaven I must endure hell. Wait for tomorrow. But when will it come?

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