it saddens me that the word 'suicide'
is beautiful to me in some way
like how beautiful
the flames are when they're burning your childhood memories
all at once
or how beautiful the girl who tries
to die
when she looks in the mirror
the kind of painful beauty that is seen from the observer
but not the owner
i would miss you, yes
i would cry, yes
i need you, yes
do not go
even with the beautiful, comes the agony
with the honor, comes the shame
with the blade, comes the scar
and with the suicide, comes the pain
i need you and i'll always need you
and though this poem is written for the heart of the girl who nearly died in a world
so cruel
so saddening
so indifferent
and significant
she wont nearly see how much she means to me