Dear Fat,
I hate you and you are the reason that I am going to kill myself because it is the only way that I can kill you too. I see you every morning in the mirror hanging off me, I feel you as I walk around campus wiggling beneath my clothes. I see you even as I take a knife to my skin to try and rid myself of you, you just wobble as if you are laughing, for I cannot cut deep enough.
You are the reason that I cannot find clothes to wear, you are the reason that I am unable to have friends and you are the reason that I am unable to find anyone to love me, for who would want to love a whale?
I have tried to rid myself of you in so many ways that there is now only one, in sweet death I shall finally be a size zero and my corpse will roam the shopping centres wearing all the latest trends, people will approach me wanting to be my friends, men will fall over themselves to love me; fight for me even. In death when I am finally rid of you the fat that hangs from my body, my corpse will be happy and I will be loved.
Goodbye to you my arch enemy, fat!
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide
Randoma collection of suicide notes that could have been written, dealing with some of life's major issues
