Hours

I don’t have the time; I push my fingers against the glass trying to hold myself up. I won't stop slipping down. I will never get better, chunks of me fall and denigrate into sand.  

 I'm losing myself to time.  
I can't let anyone see me like this, I'm fragile to the touch. I might fall apart if you push me too hard.  
 I am soft and delicate like the waves on the beach.  
 
Everyone knows it, they all talk to me like I'm confused. My presence makes them uneasy as if I was already dead. I don’t understand what I should feel, I should accept my fate.  
 
Ironic that someone would push away the people that care about them when they are at their lowest.  
Will they forget about me, will they forget about what I'm doing to myself?  
 
I am at the mercy of the ocean wherever it may pull and push me. I lie there on the cold sand breathing slowly and relaxed. My death doesn't scare me, not like it scares the others. I don’t understand why I need to be here.  
 
I need to be alone, in my own isolation is only when I can commit to the plan set in stone by my universe. Meaningless to fight it, a force too strong.  
I glide my fingers up my stomach, my skin almost breaking at the force. I bring it up to my chest. I softly push. pushing becomes grabbing, clawing at my skin until it breaks. I reach deeper and deeper I strain my arm reaching for my heart.  
 
 
I won't let out a cry even, this is what I deserve. My beating heart melts into my hand. I can't help but let out a smile of relief. I hold it up like an award. My thoughts are tranquil until I can't see any thought itself. I can't regret what I can't remember, memories blow away softly.  
 
I am at peace with myself.