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I am dead.

I died a painful death.

I was tied to a bed post.

Gang raped by 9 men.

A belt looped around my neck.



I am dead.

A pillow held over my face.

Fighting for my last breath.

Slowly slipping away into darkness.

Hearing my heartbeat come to a halt: silence.



I am dead.

I laid in the bathtub.

It filled with my blood.

The stab wounds were deep.

Coldness was welcoming to my soul.



I am dead.

I watched as I slid the razor over my wrist.

I cut them both the right way.

Deep enough to cut into my soul.

My body becomes disconnected.



I am dead.

I didn't make this choice.

Until the end, when the pain came.

I couldn't let it keep happening.

I have died inside over a million times.



My soul is broken and empty.

My heart is undesired and shattered.

My scars are the only love I have.

I am dead finally at last.

But I am still breathing into this injured world of mine.



~Kesha~