Maybe I would start with
Dear....
I am sorry,
(but am I?
if I was,
I wouldn't)
Then I would say
but I can't go on.
Life is not worth living.
It's not that I feel too much,
It's that more and more
I feel nothing
Nothing at all.
Like there is a scar,
where my heart used to be.
Even pain can't hurt me anymore.
Isn't that terrible?
Even love can't make me feel.
But what am I talking about?
There is no love.
Only lovers,
And sooner or later
they all merge into one.
The one I don't want to be with.
And maybe I would say:
I am sorry to do this to you,
to leave you with this grief,
these questions.
But who am I kidding anyway?
Let's make a deal,
I won't pretend to be sorry,
and you don't pretend to cry.
What I am sorry for is the embarrassment.
Suicides are always embarrassing,
If I knew how to do this quietly,
so there would be no body,
I would.
But as it is...
Don't bother with a funeral
No open casket with the curious
breathing into my skin.
NO!
Burn me instantly.
And scatter my ashes anywhere.
I'm not particular,
Maybe on a vegetable patch
Where I could fertilise tomatoes
or broccoli.
I could end by telling you I loved you,
in spite of it all,
And that I would miss you,
but let's keep it simple, shall we?
Good luck with your life,
Hope it turns out better
than mine.
And if it doesn't
you can spend your time
perfecting your own suicide note...
*********************************************************************************
I said goodbye a long time ago; you just weren't listening.
2 comments:
Whoa! This is so heavy. It's just beautifully written, but the subject matter makes me cringe.That last sentence - I can't even describe how it makes me feel, but I think it's brilliant.
Thanks Jackie - did you get that I was in a seriously down mood when I wrote all of that?
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