You never realise how much you want to die until you see them.
The ones who wished you were dead. The ones who made you feel like a waste of air.
Worthless.
My mom dragged me to the mall. It was 70 degrees out, but I still wore a black hoodie.
To hide the pain, the scars.
To hide everything,
"Samantha, take it off. Now."
I said nothing, her voice drowning in the music that ran from my earphones and into my decaying head,
She knew better than to argue.
"Samantha, you need new clothes. It's the middle of summer and you need to get out of that head of yours."
Still nothing amusing.
She pointed towards Forever 21. Like I want to go to a shop where all those bougie kids spend their time.
I walk in, tightening the strings of my hoodie.
And then, I see her.
Clayre.
Her green eyes, her auburn hair, her smile that lit up all the fires that had died down.
She looked at me. She recognised me.
And that's when the slightest of emotion crawled over me.
I smiled the tiniest smile.
The best, and worst part:
She smiled back.
YOU ARE READING
If I Die
Poetry"If I Die, would I be remembered?" Sam Carson is struggling with a lot of things. Mostly Life. Living between life and death, between forced choices and compulsions. Never at peace, always at war against emotions. Always thinking about death.
