sometimes i still think that i will end up killing myself.
maybe that’s not a bad thing,
maybe these deadly thoughts filling my mind in the middle of the night is just fate telling me it’s the way i need to go.
maybe it’s how i balance out the universe.
i’ll run my finger along the bright blue veins on my wrist,
calluses getting caught on what seems like a million scars,
and maybe i’ll start to pretend that i opened up my skin again.
maybe a smile will creep up into my face when i think about what songs would play at my funeral,
an eerie message whispering to me that i do not belong here.
maybe the universe should be telling me to keep loving him,
to plan our wedding,
to plan our future,
and wedding bells do sing in the back of my mind,
but the idea that he’s not happy anymore sings louder.
the idea that i should give up before my heart gets torn out of my chest screams so loudly i feel like i’m going deaf.
maybe drowning a bottle of pills,
or wrapping my Malibu around a tree
is still written at the top of my Christmas wish list,
and i still wonder if these thoughts are fate’s way of telling me i do not belong here.