There were all these words scratched into a notebook hidden under your bed... it seemed like such a normal teenage thing to do.
But then you grew up and started scratching them into your skin word for word I ignored them on your arms and under your clothes.

There was that brief moment you started laughing at really morbid things and everyone became really uncomfortable... but I chalked it up to your sick sense of humor and moved on.
But then you grew up and started making your own jokes about dying and how much easier things would be when  you were gone... I ignored them because what else could I do?

Do you remember the moment you became jealous of your friends and family? We laughed because it was such a normal teenage thing to do...
and then you grew up and started to hate them for it.
You started to back off and hide away and I let you do that for a while.

I didn't make it into work today... and I wont make it into work ever again.
I never wanted to be buried but you don't get to choose your funeral once you decide to take yourself out of the equation.
They told me it ran in the family... they said there wasn't any sign at all that this would happen.

Those words were etched on my bones.
That jealousy and that rage was etched in my lungs when I panicked and stopped breathing for moments at a time.
Those morbid jokes were not meant to be taken lightly... I wasn't joking.

I never wanted to be buried.