The days are long
And uncontrollable
I pray for a song
Yet am inconsolable.
I have nothing left,
Nothing left worth living.
A noose isn’t deft,
Nor is made for giving.
Soon I will leave
And breathe no more.
You musn’t grieve,
I’ve won my war.
Do not be saddened by my death,
I decided when to take my own breath.
Where is she?
I ran out as soon as I began reading the note.
The man at the desk told me almost nothing.
Is “that way” even a direction?
Not when you say “or that way, I don’t know.”
Now she stole my rope.
Oh no, she can’t…
GODDAMNIT WHY WON’T THIS BUS MOVE FASTER?
I ju