hypothermia in hell

Dear Whoever, Here's another letter that I'll never send. If you get this ever, I'll be at my most bitter end. The last time we spoke he spit only warm blades and open bombs. Now this ink is running through my veins, so shut the fuck up and try to understand these words no breath could ever hope to carry. He's my last big mistake. He is the new machine. And falling into the new machine seems to be my only way out. To my defeater: don't even bother to read this. I will fail you every single time. The sound of his voice sharpens my flaws into daggers. So let's toast this to my utter loss. The thought of forever disgusts me. Blankets of snow fall deep into failure. The sun is getting dull and I wake up cold and alone. So just give me an ending. Give me one more reason. My concern will not be confused with pity, because pity swiftly turns tolerance into acceptance. And we don't want that to happen.