We dress in all black when we’re apart,
Two walking shadows trying to escape the dark.
You told me you wanted to feel something,
And you thought cutting yourself open would be a start.
You’re too young to feel this empty,
But what is one to feel without a heart.

Love never told us what to do, but your friends did.
All of the people who couldn’t keep a lover,
Seemed to give the only advice that you listened to.
I tried to bring you to your senses,
But your hearing and our vision seemed to fail.
I said that we should take a break,
And you just told me to go to hell.
I’ve burned to this very day,
My heart too heavy for any scale.

Our home became just another house,
One side of the closet cleaned out.
My patience and hair are running thin.
I just want to be back with you again.
I threw everything away that you left,
Except for our memories, and only the best.

The pills couldn’t rid my mind of you,
But you’re long gone,
And all you left me with was the song
That was your laughter
And the art
That was your smile.

Her phone lights up again.

It’s well past 2 am.

She checks it.

Hoping and praying that it’s him.

She is disappointed once again

As her thoughts

And her phone

Once again fade

To the same shade of darkness

That she holds within.

Dear friends and family,
I chose to be selfish for once. Yes, I thought of all of you. Every single person that will read this, you’ve crossed my mind a time or two at least, even if I never saw your face or heard your voice. I had to do this for myself. Instead of doing other selfish things such as hanging myself like an artist’s unfinished painting, overdosing on any of the number of medications I have readily available, blasting a bullet through this thick skull of mine, or running into the tree that I catch myself staring at on my way home from work every day. No, instead I chose to be selfish in a way that would not end my life. This may come as a relief to some and a surprise to others. I chose to be selfish in a manner that would cut ties, but give me an opportunity to reach out and create new connections that I could have only once dreamed. I have chosen to move on and venture, and as I go forth, just remember, I thought of you.
Kind Regards,
J. Foster

Your signature was so crisp
And so elegant.
But now it is smeared
With the thoughts that once made up
My ****** up mind
that was once so alive
and utterly depressed.
I asked you to sign
that 147 grain piece of shrapnel
To keep in my 9mm handgun
In case anyone ever tried to hurt me.
I just wanted to make sure
That I would have you with me.
But now you’re gone
And so am I
And the crimson streaks
Left on the walls and ceiling
Of the bedroom where we once shared so much intimacy
Scream
that all is not as right in the world
as we teach our children to hope for.
So I bid you farewell,
And I hope that the cops come to you,
Bring you the bullet that flew through my skull,
And say, “This belongs to you.”

He left you hanging
once again today,
But this time
it wasn’t by not coming to pick you up
like he said he would,
It wasn’t by forgetting
About the dinner plans y’all had made
Just last week,
And it wasn’t by reading and not replying
To the first text you ever sent him
Asking if he would want to hang out.
This time
it was when he walked through
the front door,
And saw you hanging
from the loosely-knotted noose
that you had freshly made
While waiting for him to pick you up.
Instead of checking
to see if he could still save
what was left of you,
He did what he does best.
He left you hanging.

he only thinks you're
pretty when you cry
when the aching
vulnerabilities sting
like red welts along
cheeks that are
white as teeth
only then are you pretty,
when the red blood
tears fall like soldiers in
the war of peace and
he kisses the place the
bullet exits
he promises he will
still love you as the lion
that murders the lamb
when the sky bleeds,
crimson echoes down
mountains of death
his viper hands
snake round your
hips and you just
don't mind, you just
don't mind anymore

I would rather stare down the barrel of a loaded gun than be alone.
Because then at least there will be someone with me when I go.
Pulling the trigger would relieve the pain,
And I wouldn't even have to worry about the aim.
Just us in an open room but with nowhere to run.
I wouldn’t want to if I could.
I gave her the gun.