'Stimulated by Rejection'

I'm free-falling into this hole with unknown depth. 'Stimulated by rejection'. Laughing at my stupidity. Wondering what's been stimulated? Ah, it's the wound on my heart. Rejection has casted a stab into it, the throbbing hard and once healthy aortal organ. How many beers, how many Swiss chocolate, they couldn't intoxicate me. Not a bit. Kill me instead. Let it be fast and swift. Somebody, please. Sorrow keeps tossing me deeper into the hole. Sorrow compresses my lungs so hard, so hard that I'm suffocating at this singularity. Am I savouring it then? What are the chances of escaping it?