i saw it in your eyes
regret mixed with broken glass
but only for a split second
this year the rainy season started a little too late
the sun was trying to remind you of the light you have inside of you
i read our old texts and cry
s is for suicide
and b is for broken ****** bruises
r is for rehab
and t is for tragedy
t is for traumatized
t is for the last time i called you, you tried to **** yourself
i woke up today even though i didn’t want to
i have been awake at night wondering if i should tell you
you told me i was a dream you never wanted to wake up from
and then you tried to swallow an entire bottle of pills
i should've remembered that p is for pills
not for promise
h is for hospital
not for honest

you were a sight for sore eyes.
you asked me for pizza two seconds after you told me how far the pen had gone this time.
the scars would never go away.
and this time, it was for both of us.
red liquor, red paint, red tears, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
my melancholic release methods, one being this paper itself, had failed me.
they had failed you too.
parallels like this are always ironic.
i forgot to tell anyone that i was drowning too.
i forgot to care about myself, even when i was told the opposite.
you forgot to tell me not to call your parents.
at least it’s different than last time. at least you didn’t tell me you hated me and at least you didn’t wish i was dead.
trying to search for a hidden meaning when it isn’t there was always one of my best qualities.
this time it was as simple as can be.
this time i increased the repetition to the point where i could no longer be in denial.
this time you left me. maybe next time i’ll be the one to go.
i’ve always been so afraid of losing purpose and losing the love i’d forgotten to tell thank you, and you, and writing something no one wants to read about, and obscurities,
and me.
i’ve always had this irrational fear of myself.
they say that time will tell, but all that time has told me is i am ******.
i am a tragedy collapsing in and i am a terrible writer anyway.
i am bad at hidden meanings and i am not good at painting. or crying.
i am a broken record playing the same track over and over.
you had bandages on your fingers that looked like snow capped mountains.
you always knew i was afraid of the cold.

at one point
I couldn’t walk
five metres from
a car to a
hospital door -
way

starved for weeks
until hunger didn’t hurt,
until the numbers
blurred

at one point
I drank *****
out in the street,
drenched in rain

restrained by
two emergency
department security
guards who did not
understand why

I was smashing my
wrist into the
floor

at one point
I drank a pint
of water and made
myself sick

over and
over

rinse
repeat

I tried to die
afraid to live
scared of the
men who lurked
like spectres in
my dreams

they are the
cause of my
pain, of the
letters after
my name

a badge of
insanity

at one point
I hope to want
to live

I don't know why you left me
during such a hard and lonely time.
I can't understand why I won't let myself see
that you're being more than just shy.
I try to keep my head clear
and keep the thoughts of you away.
Just an empty space after "dear"
too many words are left to say.
Nights are growing darker
sleep is once again the enemy.
Your memory has become much larger
than the strength that's build inside of me.
So sing me that song just one more time
I promise I'll do my best, I won't cry.
But you've lost the words, and your sunshine
two words are all that's left to say...