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words of a poet
words of a king
words of a peasant
all words sing

hear i am
remember me
i am dead
i lived for thee

no where
no how
i do not believe
this is now

give up the image
the lie the lie
give up the vision
of i      of i
collapse into reality
I've told you of my many mind changes
Not just the surface dross, but the living
Core of the root. The blurred symptoms bending
My sight to destruction, the hate of ages
Thriving within, the tainted defences
Of ego that burned pain with their weak soothing,
This I told you and more. The thorned purging
Of childhood's conjecture, the strength that is
Formed, sturdy and deep, in one days effort,
The acceptance of self, which slow but true
Did lift, this I told you and more. And the vast
Labors of molding the light and dark shape
That frames my world, now glinting a soft burst
Of love's color, this I've told you, and more.
I want my last words to be meaningful... Then again, everybody does. The sad truth is, no words come close to meaning. The fact that we have to take seperate words and put them together like a puzzle for someone to even understand it, which sometimes they don't, amazes me. I'm sure a time will come where a thousand pictures is worth a word, and not vice versa... Then maybe absence will be meaningful. Until then, I have no last words. None would properly fit the missing piece to the puzzle.
Explanation:

549 days ago, I tried to commit suicide. I tried to end my life, and my only friends at the time were on the internet. I was clinically depressed, with crippling social anxiety, and wanted to end my life. I swallowed a half empty bottle of Aderall, containing 20 pills, and was rushed to the hospital when my parents came home and found the pill bottle across the room, no pills inside them, and they pumped fluid into me to save my life. I remember the humiliation of waiting in the waiting room, blood dripping down my entire arm, while my mom argued with the nurse about how "Her son is going to die" and "Get him in a room now".. I remember coming back home for the first time since this incident 2 weeks ago, and I couldn't tell them. I couldn't tell any of them I was still alive. I read all their beautiful comments, and I didn't have the heart to tell them they grieved for nothing. This post contains the last words I said, the words that were going to be MY last words. But I didn't die. So I still have a blank page left to write those words in.

The Response Comments:

"**** it, I love you don't. If you went through with it may your soul rest in peace."
"I'm literally in tears right now..."
"Rest in peace, there may not be a god, but there is an afterlife.. i'll see you when i get there."
"It is best to tell everyone of you now that he has...Passed, we all loved him, and knew him well but...He is gone as he stated...May he rest in peace..."
"NO"
"Ok I need some of your make believe fantasy right now."
"Sorry I couldn't help."
The last thing I said to you was I love you.
It used to be simple. Everything was fine.
Now I’m being stripped of all that makes me sane.
They put up a glass wall between us.
We can’t speak, we can’t hear, but we can look.
I’m sorry for everything I did
To make you stop looking
The regret of the mourners,
Eons of gratitude not-shown to the living.  
The false happiness of the greedy,
The unknown joy of contentment.

You were alone,
But not lonely.
Another was lonely and alone.
You both craved for more.


Now I hear the hurt in your laughter;
Now I see the pain in your smile.
Now I see the courage that you fly;
And I hope that one day you will be alright.
I can smell the blood in veins...
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