Is it? Really?
No, it’s not normal.
Oh yeah? Am I laughing?
That’s great for you, then.
But, hold on, one thing…
You know what?
I don’t need it.
Until I shed my last tear drop
Until I carve my last fake smile
Until I breathe my last strength
I’m still scared
I’m still interrogating the stranger in me
I still can’t tell which one is an illusion or real
I still stare at the reflecting image in the mirror that I don’t recognize
I have been eagerly fighting back this stranger not to kill me
But lately, the stranger has been compelling me an idea to kill myself
Yet, the urge is getting stronger each day, to compromise with the idea
Is everything will be ended by then?
Will the stranger leave me, if I agree to do it?
Till death do us part…