if I committed suicide…
I wonder how many
gasps,
cries,
screams,
tears,
or words will be spoken as a sign of love.
But them I remembered…
It’s 2:30 am and I’m
alone,
tired,
scared,
sore,
and silently screaming for help no one really
notices,
cares,
thinks,
shows any sort of affection.
if I commit suicide…
please don’t say you
loved me,
missed me,
cared for me ,
or found beauty within me,
or I should’ve tried harder.
Because I wouldn’t have a stomach full of pills,
and blood stained wrists at 2:30 am
if you…
missed me,
loved me,
cared for me,
or found beauty within me.
2 comments
A stomach pump and well placed bandages would ruin this grand scheme of your’s. Have you considered the alternative? Crimson Dream… I like that. I myself would stick my neck with my fighting knife (not allowed to call it a bayonet) and from what I’ve seen…much crimson would ensue.
Look…I’m sure you’re a lovely person, is there anything you wish to discuss? Or am I merely having a front row seat to yet another life’s unbecoming.
Thanks for taking a liking to my name Mysterious Stranger. Discussing as of now is not on my to-do list but I’ll try to talk when I’m ready to. You won’t be in the front row maybe the third considering we’ve just talked now, and I also won’t be doing anything tonight but sleeping and dreaming of a better tomorrow.