Letter of Pain

Dear you,

I close my ears, for noise pierce through them, each surge of noise sends a surge of pain right through my head, and there is nothing I can do about them.

I close my eyes, hoping to see nothing, so that I will stop seeing the association of everything with you. I want to blot you out of my senses. I want to purge myself of you.

Filthy you.

No, filthy me.

It must be this pair of filthy hands that you refuse to hold which caused the building blocks of love and friendship scattering right before our very eyes. It must be this ugly smile that flashes whenever my eyes see you that caused you to run in horror. It must be this very horrendous face that make you scream in horror whenever I come near you.

I don't blame you. Filthy me.

It's time to give up. It's time to let go everything I've once believed in, because of you. If I were to believe in what you taught me to believe in, my mind would be filled with you, and I would have to slowly heal again from the torn scar on my chest, which has pretty much shriveled by now.

I don't blame you. I blame myself. Filthy me.

I have a request, however. Can you please hurt me once again, once and for all? Can you please take a knife and plunge it deep into my heart and make sure I die in front of you? That way, you not only rid the earth of a horrendous monster and also rid yourself of me, but also help me to not hurt anymore.

That way, I can stop hurting, and I will find myself in paradise, emotionless. That way, I am filthy no more. That way, I will be able to come clean.

Please rid me of me. Please rid my filthiness of this earth, from your life.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Your discarded one.