I was a fish swimming in a sea of self.

The world became mine, and not yours.
Your precious children became ugly to me.
Every thought became a hundred mirrors of myself.
My love became limited, for it was only used on me.
I cared only for myself.
My cares got thrown in a non-recycle bin, because I forgot how to use them properly.
My eyelids would fuse together, causing me to never see the 6,840,507,000 people in the world.





... So I decided to kill myself.
And everyday the suicidal procedure would occur.

I would shut the door.
I would turn up the A/C.
I would close the blinds.
I would dim the lights.
I would curse.
Then I would pray.

T
h
e
n

I would painfully cut out the darkness that engulfed the life in my heart.
I would use a scalpel and roughly slice away at calloused corners.

As I felt my last breath leave my dry cracked lips, a new one would come that wasn't mine.
The transition was as smooth as the rhythm of an ocean.
It belonged to Him, and He relentlessly let me borrow.
This air in my chest was clear and crisp.
Once I walked away from my front door, I would remind myself that because of my death, others shall live today.