I don't feel like killing myself. But I do want to kill this part of me. Dye my hair, get colored contacts, don a new identity - like they do in the movies. Take a knife to the throat of the girl I once was and rise like a Phoenix from her demise. I'd do it without a blink of an eye, I would. I'd trade for a fresh new life in a heartbeat, the unfamiliarity and uncertainty electrifying me like a cannonball in a frigid pool on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Emerging from the water slowly, unrecognizable to myself in the distorted pool water.