Not a Breath

What would i rather feel, to be cold, to be numb-to be dead? the sunshine isnt warm any longer; it just burns my skin. my lips mock a painted smile that my eyes dont return, im slipping, sleeping, fading from this world. the sounds that leap past my teeth are silenceing my cry, i wonder what are the reasons that i so badly want to die, it doesnt have a thing to do with my dissapearing friends, or my boyfriend and his jealousy, and absolute stubborness. theres something dead inside of me, and its growing by the day, its pushing freezing water out, to try and smother me. What would i rather feel, to be cold, to be numb, to be dead; when this pain hurts so much, that i cant even take a breath.