A Carnival Ride Through My Mind

It was starting to show.
My lips were blue from holding the breath of my emotions.
Soon,
   I would be a murderer.
I was on the brink of a...
Spontaneous Combustion.
My time was running out.
My breath was already gone.
I began to feel cold
   And lifeless...
One by one,
Every transmitter in my brain
Was short circuiting.
I could feel the excruciating pain.
Every flash of emotion
   Was the last flash.
The emotions were clusters of needles
   Piercing my flesh.
In some sick way,
     It felt good.
Who knew dying could be so exhilarating?
Who knew suicide
   Could be
     A carnival ride?
How could murder be so simple?
How could life be so hard?
Just like that...
     I was dead inside.
No longer would I have to hide.
     Emotions:
There were none
An empty shell
Nothing to fear
No tears to cry
Nothing to hate
Nothing to love
No more forced smiles
   Or unrequited one liners.
No more talking.
       Mute.
Only robotic thoughts of what it'd be like to care.
I had nothing to share.
Dead.
My emotions had slowly faded away,
Like the days of my youth.
I chose this.
I was only left with broken memories
   Of what a life with feeling was like.
I was haunted by thoughts of others.
I was taunted by their feelings.
What would they think of me?
     I was curious.
If they knew...
       I am a murderer.
       I committed suicide.
         And I like it.
But...
     It's my secret
     My deepest
           darkest
           most precious
           act of self.
I'll never be able to tell.
I am the puzzle,
        you are the solver,
        The solvent.
The only solvent capable
         Of a breakthrough.
But,
     I can't seem to find you.
And,
Because I'm dead,
       I don't really care to.
My vocabulary has turned
      Bitter.
From,
      Sweet
To,
      BitterSweet
Drop the Sweet
      It's Bitter
      And Better that way.
Closing in on,
      Stale.
The final destination...
      Rotten.
Only to be broken down
   By the earth
   And renewed in form.
No more hope for the best
Only studying
     To pass the test.
If there even was one
     In death.
It all comes down to the present.
       For a view of
          Past
            or
         Future
Is purely based on faith.
Nothing is all I know,
And,
I doubt my ability to even know that.
My inability to feel
   Is accompanied
     By my habit.
My habit of
         Wanting more than I have
          And
         Needing less than I want.
              Paradoxically,
              I want nothing,
                 I have nothing,
                   I am nothing,
                      There is nothing.
              Infinite nothing
              Clutters Spacetime.
Even in my mind,
Still stands time.
And,
Nothing cancels Everything.
No Pause
      Fast Forward
      or
      Rewind.
Once again I've lost control
Deep inside
My spiraling mind.

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