• Prelude
    “Go die. No one cares.”
    I blink.

    Warmth would become blazing
    As I stand in front of flames
    He would stare back at me
    With those flickering eyes of orange
    Laughing, teeth flashing brightly,
    I would incinerate in his love.
    But I hate
    The over-hot heat of his passion.

    Encase me in your frozen arms
    And I would be forgotten,
    Only a picture preserved, like
    A rose encased in resin,
    Silently, for eternity…
    But I don’t wish to be trapped
    Inside blue glass, because
    I’m already trapped inside myself.
    Too many cages, too many traps
    No keys, and I
    Don’t like that.

    I watch the droplets
    Roll down my skin and
    I smile.
    Should I fall asleep and drown
    In my favorite baths and showers,
    Scented with my favorite citrus-fragrance,
    Then all would be pleasant, and I would be at ease.
    But I don’t want
    To be found so
    Shamelessly exposed.

    I stand on the rooftop
    Of some building and wish,
    Wish that the wind would push me back
    Or tear me into pieces and
    End my suffering.
    But the breeze strokes my hair and
    Sorrowfully scolds me for such thoughts.
    All I can do is stand there and scent
    The air, indescribably wonderful.
    It won’t kill me because
    It’s too kind, much too kind.
    It’s beautiful, so beautiful;
    I stand on the rooftop
    And all I can do is cry.

    Spring brings rain,
    Chilling the air. I push open
    My window and
    Let the cold in.
    It cools my room to winter,
    The way I like it.
    Blankets are warm, so I crawl
    Under them into bed.
    Close my eyes. Rain is a lullaby.
    All darkness.
    Dawn comes and my eyes open.
    I am cold. But awake.
    I wake into a nightmare and
    Sleep won’t let me stay
    In his peaceful embrace.

    I love the sound
    Of heels on flooring.
    If I climbed the stairs
    Of the highest building I could find and
    Wore heels for the occasion, each step would
    Be so much fun to take,
    Listening to the sound of
    My heels— click clack, click clack.
    But I hate heights. And they
    Won’t ensure my death.
    Too much fear, not enough courage for a
    Percentage under one hundred.


    It flashes silver in the light.
    Seems to be common,
    But I hate pain. I can’t tolerate pain and I
    Don’t want to see
    Hot blood run down my skin and drip
    Onto the floor, I
    Would faint.
    I am a delicate maiden. I don’t want
    Cuts to scar my already blemished skin.
    Acne is already enough.


    I hate needles and I
    Don’t need the high.
    I’m already insane enough and I
    Like my sanity without crap leading to
    Such an ugly death.
    I don’t need poison in my blood,
    That will lead to the loss of someone else when I
    Crash. I don’t want
    Another’s death on my hands, on my shoulders
    When I leave because even if others should forgive me
    I will never forgive myself.
    I shall collapse should any more weight
    Fall upon my back, but it won’t release me from
    This world, or the poison in my
    I don’t need it.
    I don’t want it.
    Leave me out—no, I will keep myself out.

    It tastes bad,
    Except pills that just
    Go down whole without any taste.
    But you see, I
    Don’t want to taint the name of medicine, for it’s
    Helped me through the times where I
    Cried from the physical
    Pains that wracked my body.
    And should I
    Have a future, I wanted to
    Go into pharmacy, to help others….
    Or did I? Was it my decision, or someone else’s?
    Either way,
    I don’t want to taint something
    That has done
    So much good to the world.


    Do I believe in angels?
    Do I believe in God?
    I don’t know. I don’t know.
    I have surely sinned and I
    Know that even if God should forgive me
    I will still carry the sins that
    I will never forget.
    But Up There, the imagery of innocence, beauty, grace, and
    Scares me because it’s too beautiful and
    I am not. I am
    Too twistedly ugly.
    I don’t know; will
    Heaven’s doors open for
    Someone as tainted as me?

    I am sure the Devil loves me.
    My flaws are too numerous and if
    God loves me too,
    Then Satan loves me
    Equally as much.
    Hell might take me if Heaven does not,
    But the darkness scares me,
    And I know that
    Even the Devil doesn’t want
    My tortured, broken soul
    Because he doesn’t have a need for
    Something so pathetic.
    Will Hell’s gates open for
    Someone as sad as me?

    I blink.
    I smile.
    I walk away.