im killing myself tonight. felt like telling someone, but i dont have anyone someones of my own.
please don’t. tomorrow we might meet a horizon we have never known. in six months might be the best night of your life.
six years ago, i used to picture a silver tie around my neck, and a closet door, and my throat caving in. i used to promise myself: tonight, tonight, the bite of forever, a silver knife. nobody would miss me, or else they’d get over it.
i forgot about the tattoos i wanted or the piercings. i forgot about the classes i wanted to take and the places i wanted to visit and the songs i wanted to sing and the people i wanted to meet. i thought about the albums i havent heard (hozier, are you with me?) and the memories i hadn’t made, unchecked on my bucket list. no skinny dip, no singing in public. no learning guitar. no books, no puzzles, no nothing. no last episode of that tv show.
it took me six years. not months, not the passing of the moments. but in six months, i’m happy in a way that i felt impossible. i remember sitting on the floor thinking: there’s no undoing what has been done. we are coming apart, us, the one. and when i died, it would make no impression. a satisfaction, in the end, the ending. the only mark i could make, the secret ending.
but in six years, i remade friends. i found my best friend. i caught my family so tight that i remembered them. i found family where family wouldn’t make itself.
what if the next poem i write is the one that saves your life. what if in a few years you hear an album that tells you where you’re going.
please don’t die. there’s so much worth living.
2087
blakekathryn
turnnoffyourmind
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
dededos
origamiaround
