It dwells in alleyways of silhouettes
In clicking sounds in cars
In storms where the wind seems to
Take away your breath

It lives within a stranger’s smile
In a tight grip on the shoulder
In footsteps following you and
Speeding up when your heart
Begins to race.

It is beautiful. It is sudden. It lingers.

It is the spinning, twirling confusion
That leaves you stuck within a
Bubble of white-cold, unsure
Of which direction to go.

All is silent and the

Eerie stillness one feels
With their toes peeking over the edge
Falling, the air whipping about them.
Down
Down
Down

Into the icy depths of liquid

Limbs are heavy, body and mind exhausted
Lungs restricting, pleading for a bite of air
But all you taste is

Fluid

Dripping from your wounds
As you push open your crumpled
Car door, shaking and crying, still
Clutching the phone in your

Hands

Clutching yours, murmured whispers
Of cryptic regret, of cherished moments.
You aged body sinks into the bed
Your grip loosens on theirs
And despite this peaceful end
Your brain screams

Survive! Survive! Survive!
Live! Live! Live!

As you sink into
Six-foot deep holes and
Into dark alleyways
Of silhouettes.

She was there.

7:25pm

I'm out with some friends., we find a spot on a hill, I know some of the people, I don't know some of the people.

I'm there having a good time. Trying to make conversation, not seeming like a complete loner loser.

I make due with what social skills I have left.

10:45pm

The fireworks have started, sparks of colour fill the sky and loud exploding noises fill my ears.

It's so dark out.
I watched the sunset not too long ago...

The sounds, the exploding bursts of shimmer and shine.

The fireworks are so vibrant, so alive...
I don't feel scared to die right now...

Maybe I should, but I don't.

11:30pm

I found my car and the parking lot is filled with people trying to get out. I grab a map and sit on the trunk of my car as I wait for an opening.

The night is calm if you don't pay mind to the drivers.
And I don't, I just stare at the map, searching for a way home.

12:30am

I made it home about 10 minutes ago and I'm not tired yet.
I make myself a cup of hot chocolate and sit at my computer watching episodes of an old sitcom from a time I didn't live in.

2:00am

I'm here.
Lying in my bed, next to nothing and no one.
It was only hours ago that I didn't feel so scared.
And now I'm here.

She wasn't there was she?
She couldn't have been...
If she was, I couldn't possibly have...

She was there.*

She was.

Our paths just missed each other.
Never crossing.

Just hours ago, I was watching fireworks.

And now I'm here.

Watching the darkness.

It's constant.

The crying.

Like a scene on repeat, and I can't turn the TV off.

I feel lifeless.

I want to be the pendulum swinging beneath a broken bridge over cold rushing waters.

I feel drunk.

Without being drunk..

I hate what happened.

I don't want this anymore.

Even if I do manage to fall asleep...

I have to wake up and do this all over again.

Never escaping this nightmare.

And continuing to cry.

Every day.

I have never felt stronger than when I allow myself to make choices that nobody else would dare make for me. Because I am the divide between the words “yes” and “no”, I am a choice.

This choice comes to us in many forms but for those of us who wonder about how many choices we have left, we ask ourselves, “Where can we go from here?”

I have never attempted suicide, but I have thought about it many times. I have seen death in many forms. Usually, they come in the most harmless appearances.
I too, have held pills in my hand and felt the weight of death. And it didn’t weigh anything.

Death is a lightweight… and a heavy subject.

I rely on my faith to pull me together but if you turn things the opposite way they can become something terrible. My faith’s cross turned upside down is a representation of the devil and a simple necktie turned upside down is just a fancy way of hanging yourself.

Simple things can become deadly if you let them. The window you used to gaze out of, marveling the world, is now a doorway spiraling downward and few people stand up when they get to the bottom, but everyone stood tall at the top.

A plastic bag can hold your food, a necessary thing for you to live, but plastic can take you oxygen away, another thing you need to live. You need water to live, but you also need water to drown, at least in most cases.

There is a red rope hanging on a hook on my bedroom ceiling, representing a story from the bible, a woman wanted to be saved because she knew that her city was going to crumble into pieces. So she hung a red rope from her window for God’s people to find her and take her away from death.

But the red rope seems to close to a noose now…

So why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I even try to attempt a choice only I have the ability to make, why can’t I do this to myself?!

I know there are people who will actually consider a choice, and go through with it, or they will fail and suffer afterwards. But for me… I have wondered who will miss me when I go. Who will be the first to know, the first to cry, the first one to consider the same choice I made after I made that choice, this choice… Is mine to make…

But I decided to stop. This is not a choice I make for me, it is a reminder that I still have another day, that I have another chance. I am the divide between “yes” and “no”. So for the people who still care about me, I looked death in its eyes… and I said “no”.

Welcome everybody to the most exciting event of your lives.
Welcome one and all, and thank you so much for attending my funeral!

And I know you’re probably confused as to why this is an exciting event, but believe me, this is an event you do not want to miss!!

Make sure that when attending my funeral, that you do not wear formal clothing, and do not wear black.

I want you, to wear the most colorful thing you can find in your closets. I want my funeral to have so much colour!

There will be so much rainbow, that my funeral could be the set for a Skittles commercial!

Die with the rainbow, Taste the rainbow!

I, of course will not be dressed formal.

I’ll be working a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, an open jacket and a snapback turned at 180 degrees, because IT LOOKS AWESOME!

You all should also look as amazing as I do. But do not, under any circumstances look better than I do.

Remember, this is still MY day, I am the most important thing in this room, Why?!!??

Because I’m super dead!

Side note: I’m afraid of dying…

But it’s not like that matters anymore, because I’M DEAD. Literally living my eternal fear. (Or dying in my eternal fear.)

Anyway!! Another rule! Do not… get drunk on my funeral day. You MUST be sober, in order to fully experience this event for what it is. And what is it?? A celebration!!!

Why would anybody celebrate MY death, you ask?

This question has a simple answer: I don’t want you to cry at my funeral…

I want you to laugh, I want you to laugh so much, that you end up crying anyway. Laugh because even though a journey has ended, it ended on a good note.

I want you to party! Dance until your tire of moving! And when you dance.

Tell yourself that you feel good.

Because even though I’m dead, I’m thankful that you came to my funeral.

Enjoy the celebration.

And if, you write my eulogy, write about the times I made you laugh, or the times I won medals, or hugged you so tight because I really didn’t want to let go until I had to.

Don’t write that you’re sorry, or that I deserved more time, or that I’m in a better place now.

Thank you, for everything. And my last gift to you is giving you a reason to be happy in a time of sorrow.

Be happy knowing that you got to be a part of my life. Because I’m happy knowing that I was part of yours.