Stop Breathing

Thoughts running through my mind. Empty thoughts, the sort
that seem to linger yet they never say anything. My vision blurry
as I lean my head back, popping a few more pills. Maybe two more
pills will end it, maybe this nightmare of horror will finally come
to a close.

Breathing becomes more difficult, I'm grabbing at my chest. The
flashbacks of your hand smacking my fragile body are all that
echo in my brain. The sickness filling up the cracks, pain seeping
through the slits. Grabbing the bottle of vodka, the big glass bottle
that I stole from your bedside, chugging half of it in one sip.

Sucking in air, grasping my throat, my body getting weak as I fall
to my bathroom floor. The cold tile that is now my best friend, I
stare at, my eyes confused whilst my mind is in a daze. Is this really
what you've brought me too?

"Daddy loves you. Daddy doesn't mean to hit you. I'm Sorry. I'm Sorry!"
The words that have tortured me for 16 years, have lost their meaning.
Scraping my nails across the floor, my body twitching in slow motion as I
look at the ceiling, my whole world breaking apart.

My heart is breaking. I’m lying here. My thoughts are choking on you,
dear. Dear, the last word that I would speak. The last breath that came
out of my mouth, chilling my tongue as it rolls off of it.

My eyes closing, the voice that once screamed and shook in fear is now
quiet, left with nothing else to say. Feeling the cold creeping up my hands,
coveringover my pale thinned face. "Daddy loves you. I'm sorry.."