I think
trying to imagine

the look on my mother’s face
if she ever found me with a bullet in my head
the gun in my hand
finger on the trigger

is the reason I am trying so hard
to stay

I think
being the reason

someone hurt like that is the only reason I’m still here

but in those moments
I am so lost

it is after the pill bottle is empty
and my wrists are open

that I see my mother’s face in the back of my head

it is after my eyes are closed
and I do not feel

that I remember
that I cannot do this to you

but it is too late
and I am so sorry

I think
hearing my father’s voice crack
as tears flooded his eyes

when he begged me not to do this to myself

is the reason
I came home alive

rather than in a casket

because I am so afraid of what would happen

how a man who already drinks himself to sleep
would cope

with the death of his only daughter

but it is not until
I have already swung from the rope around my neck

that I hear him pleading

but it is too late
and I am so sorry

I think
that even though I feel alone
more days that I can get out of bed

that there are people who love me

people who need me and
I do not want to leave you

but I cannot keep waking up to this

my heart is heavy and
I hurt all over and

I’m tired of begging the world to stop spinning
I am too dizzy to stand here any longer

and it is not until my lungs collapse

that I know I love you

but it is too late
and I am so sorry