I try to think about
the consequences of
slit wrists and orange tic tacs

It seems miserable yet peaceful

A place of peace

A place of peace for me
For my family members
For my “friends”
For my coworkers
For my associates

They don’t really care about me now
but when I die they will

They will call us close friends
They will post the best selfie I have and write me an unread message on their social media’s
They might shed a little tear at the fact that they can’t call me to cry about their boyfriends anymore
Or because I can’t do their hair
They will use me for sympathy
and they will miss the whole point


It is about them and what they could have done to prevent it
If they would have just opened their eyes a little wider