Missing Them

The Note

I began writing, I just felt words pouring out of me, travelling through my arm and onto the blank space on the page:

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Months passed and your touch no longer eats at the indents of my palms and the taste of your poison has vanished from my tongue. I try to convince myself that I no longer care about you but, I always find myself thinking about you. Crawling back to you. One. Do I wanna know? You have no idea how you're in deep. I dreamt about you every night this week.

I want you to hold my hand whilst we walk, I want you to play with my hair whilst we watch our favourite tv shows together. I want you to kiss me in the middle of my sentence because you want to taste my words. I want your arms around me whilst we fall asleep and I want you to play my favourite song when I look sad. I want you to do these things without thinking about them, I want you to do these things because you love me. I showed you the damaged parts of my soul and you showed me how it still shined like gold, or it used to.

Every atom of me misses you

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Little did I know that it would turn into my suicide note, I just thought it would be something I wrote down and threw away, just a worthless thought. But. It meant more than that, because every word I wrote down caused my downfall. I left the note on the counter as I run to my room.

Unhurriedly, I walk to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. It looks somewhat crepuscular yet enchanted. The room is perfect for this, like a cold night. As I step in, I take a deep breath and feel chills down my body. Reaching for the taps, the cold brass stinging my hand

(i always said i would never commit, just make death more likely, but its all become too much)