I've got a heartbeat
that's irregular
like the narrative
strings on which
I have danced
throughout my
brief time here
so far

After a while, you realize that
Living is all you do.
It took me months, but it became
Very clear that I was struggling.
Every day was a chore.

Because of this,I was consistently
Unable to get out of bed.
Time moved far to slow for me.

Day after day I was told that
Eventually it would get better.
And maybe one day it will.
Dear god do I hope it will.

I wonder if an autopsy can reveal that the person was already dead inside.
If they take a black light to your mind, will they see the bloodstains you tried to hide?
Or will the autopsy file be labeled "suicide" and left to gather dust.

With the strength
of the devil
he pulled his heart out
and held it up for all to see
and in his final moments
he saw in their eyes
the realization that they had
done something wrong

You asked me to tell you what scared me.
As I described my worst fear in detail to you, your eyes went wide.
You even gasped.
But the funny thing, is that you never told me yours.
Which means I must not be part of it.

As I stand on the roof of a wooden bridge, I look down asking myself if the rocks have soft edges or sharp ones.
Then I stare at the water wondering what color the murky green and my blood red would mix to.
And finally, I jump.

If I were to die tonight, would they wrap me in rose petals?
Hoping the softness would bring me back?
If I burn my house down and lock myself inside will they look at my flame kissed skin and question suicide?
What if I swerve to "avoid a deer" but turn to hard into the trees?
Can a deep cut on my thigh give away my secrets?
I guess only the dark side of the moon will ever know.