Anxiety busters

The Perfect Crime

I am a criminal.

Yes, you heard it right.

I am a criminal.

 

I pleaded guilty to the crimes I had committed;

I stabbed knives at people I trusted.

I got high with ambitions.

I got overdose with alternate realities.

I lied about my feelings.

I ran away from my problems.

I got drunk on love.

 

I am a murderer.

I killed every opportunity that came my way.

I killed every favor given to me.

I killed the most important person I could ever have; I killed myself.

I killed every part of me;

 

I abused my brain for stupid decisions,

I poked my eyes for seeing better days,

I chopped my ears for hearing songs that were never composed.

I stitched my mouth for speaking words that made me choke eventually.

I fractured my hands for holding on to promises without the assurance.

I stabbed my heart a million times for letting people stay inside of it.

And lastly, I suffocated my soul for believing it could heal itself and find its way home.

 

I tried to escape but I was determined to commit the perfect crime.

I did it.

Finally.

I killed myself.

I am never as good as you think,

I am never as wise as you see.

I will never be a good one,

Because I am always the sinner,

The murderer,

The killer.

 

Now here I am, take me.

Imprison me.

Judge me.

I surrender, now.

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