#ock04

[overcastkid]

written 9th may 2026.

the back of a downtown ambulance. lungs failing, body convulsing, eyes rolling. nothing but the sounds of apologetic birthday wishes from the paramedics as they attempt to sedate the mania. my brain frantically rewinds the cctv tapes of my life, searching for the perfect memory to go out on. i’ve never been so close to death. i've also never felt more at home. the gurney is my bed, and the paramedic reads my vitals aloud like a fairytale.

but the death is only actualised in my head. as it always was, as it always will be. there are no funerals for psychosomatic casualties, no flowers left on the graves of the living dead, no tears shed for those whose bodies just won't accept the desperate pleas of the brain to let go.

the paramedics tell me i'm free to go. they sign my discharge papers and send me on my way. but i think i’ll be trapped in this ambulance forever.

[overcastkid]

written 16th april 2026.

i need a new body. everything’s been broken and warped and distorted beyond repair. my legs can’t carry me to the finish line anymore. all of my bones have been shattered to pieces by each reminder of what i’ve lost and who i used to be. memories are double-edged swords and i do nothing but willingly ram my chest into them every time. it’s hard to breathe when your lungs are pierced and bruised from self sabotage. god knows i’ve already drank my liver into oblivion, too far to recover. i should’ve known you can’t numb that which is already unfeeling. i can’t hear when my friends tell me they love me. when my father tells me he cares about me. when the world begs me to stay. i can’t see colours anymore, all the saturation has faded to lifeless shades of grey and beige. my mind is a car. totalled. wrecked. upside down in a ditch. but no flowers dare to grow at the site of the crash, even weeds reject my corpse. and who could ever blame them?