◊
Numb. Numb. I have to try harder. I don’t want to feel this anymore. I don’t want these voices floating from my floors. Kill yourself. Kill yourself. You aren’t supposed be here. You should have died ten years ago.
Numb myself. Numb myself. Numb the voices down.
I just want to sleep. I just want to be unconscious. No more. No more. No more thinking. I’m so exhausted with thinking. I can’t figure this out. It’s beyond me. I’m too stupid. My father was right all along.
Stop it, Tommy. No more crying to dehydration. No more feelings at all. What the fuck do you have to be sad about? My mother’s voice surrounds me. Her life is worse off than mine. What am I complaining about?
Numb. Numb. Numbed. I’ve numbed myself down. I’ve numbed myself, finally. I’m staying in bed. I don’t need the world. I don’t need your kindness, your love and your pity. No more. No more of it all.
Just leave me down in the darkness, numbed. Leave me with myself to numb myself, numb myself, numb myself down–turn Tom completely off.
I’m dead. I’m numb. I’m dying. I’m not supposed to be here. I should have died already. I can’t cause anymore trouble for the many people who love me. I don’t want to be a burden anymore.
◊
Metanarrative