What is the colour of your love?
Rainbow. What's yours?

Quiet. Silence filled in the space.
My heart heaved.
I breathe in the intoxicating smoke before I finally answered.

It's golden.
Sweet.
Thick like honey.

It's golden,
Tough.
Shines like amber.

It's golden.
Hot.
Burns like lava.

It's golden.
It's perilous.

Our minds write
in two
differet genres
but darling,
let's make a
masterpiece.

kind of? it just fills me with so much-- so much desperation when I think about how many people want to die.

and i spent, like, almost three hours or something yesterday trying to talk people out of it online. because i was thinking about it. but most of them didn't change their minds, or anything.

did i fail them? i could have been their last chance. i could have been so many people's last chance. i could have saved them if i'd known the right words to say.

Woah, hey, hey, I gotta stop you there. You can't blame yourself for it if... if they don't change their minds.You're not the reason they want to die, so it's... it's not your fault if they do. And you're not making them any more likely that they will, either.

no, no, i'm not. i know it's not my fault. but... i just care so much! i can't believe they want to die. i wish i could tell them that i'm here for them and i want to give them all the things they wanted and couldn't get because life couldn't give it to them. i wish i could show them how beautiful it all can be.

But you can't.
You can't even help yourself. Put on your own oxygen mask first, you know?

you and i both know that anything going on with me isn't nearly that serious

It should be.

what's that supposed to mean? are you trying to say that i should be worse? i should want... want to die?

No, no! Jeez. I mean you should take it seriously- as seriously as you've been taking random strangers' problems on the internet. If you don't take care of yourself, then maybe one day the tables'll turn and there'll be someone trying to talk you out of it. You matter too, you know. You're just human.

i

...Are you okay?

y
yeah. sorry. i'm just not used to this

Used to what?

you being nice?

Must there be the voice of an old man
To be inspired by wisdom?
Must there be intelligible words
To guess out the intention?
Must there be vulnerability
To presume the proper truth?

　　There ain’t a single channel
　　On the interface of dialogue.

Must we lie only in whispers
To keep hurt under the seal?
Must we sigh only in earnest
To show others where we bleed?
Must we die only in peace
To pass the torch with ease?

　　There ain’t a single channel
　　On the interface of dialogue.

Me: What's so hard about the first line?
Also Me: There's nothing difficult at all! It's just like baking a cake.
M: In what way, would you say, this is at all like baking a cake?
A M: Cakes, in a way, are a composition. They can come in a variety of flavors, from mundane munchies to extravagant favors.
M: You comic, that's pretty much everything in life; are you hoping to seem as if somehow you're wise?
A M: Before the first pour, a whisk or a spoon or something more, one must consider intention, constitution, and culinary inspiration.
M: it's a cake, that you bake, where the flour is the base, sugar the taste, and colors meant to decorate.
A M: No need to simplify, I ask that you rectify your pompous pontification.
Myself: writing, baking, what does it matter. We write, we bake, that's all that matters.