I feel

I feel thin, worn and weak. I feel like a piece of thread being unraveled. Every failure, weakness, every hurt unravels me more and more. My hair, then my mind begins to unravel, my brow, my eyes, my cheeks. Down, down I unravel with every guilty memory, every remorse filled moment. My shoulders are gone, my arms, my body and my legs are gone. My self doubt and self-loathing finish me off and I am nothing more than threads of a life broken, strands of a life passed. Nothing left but fear and hate. My threads are blowing in the wind, my only friend. My final freedom.