(This was a poem I wrote a while back when I was very close to ending my own life.)
Eerie Calmness.
Shaky hands gone steady.
I'm ready.
Before I go, I look over the bottle again,
For the seventh time in a second.
I didn't get to fall in love.
Never experienced sex.
Never been to a party.
Never felt your lips on mine.
I remember the last time.
I still want one last time.
I'll miss your lips,
A ghost sits on mine.
And my memory makes it almost surreal,
This ghost almost feels real.
I'm not in love,
I just wanted to feel loved
And now it's too late.
And I'll feel nothing.
I never turned eighteen,
Never learned how to drive,
Nobody picked up their phone
Before my suicide.
'Dosage:two' so I'll take twenty,
Double it, triple that,
however many
It takes
To kill a girl
Before she wakes.
I begged them for a therapist.
I begged my mom, and she got pissed.
I begged my dad, and he just 'tsked'
"Go ask your mom to pay for this,
She takes my money"
And his cheek I kissed
...goodbye.
And he'd never know it was the last time.
I'll miss my mom,
I'll miss my sister.
My dad,
My brother.
My stepmom,
My stepbrother.
My best friend.
My ex lover.
I'll miss them all.
And for their own sake,
I hope they won't miss me.
