thanks to anxiety whenever i make a mistake i feel like this
My brother killed himself
on the twenty-eighth Thursday of last year
and I missed four days of work
and my mom wanted to know ‘Why’.
he was always a fan of beauty
but what he did
was not beautiful at all.
And last week I got the news
that one of my good friends from high school
except this time
she’d gone too far
and now she was gone.
And I had a hard time falling asleep at night
and her mother
hugged me tight
and thanked me for coming to the service
but I did not
want to be there at all.
This is not
The girl down the street
would’ve turned 21 last year
and I can scarcely imagine
the wild times she would’ve
But she is buried six feet deep
after falling nearly 300
and she did not leave a note.
This is not
My freshman year of college
and my roommate was beautiful
and how I wanted to be just like her.
But she wore herself down
till she was
and if you blinked
you had to go and find her all over again.
So now her parents are no longer supporting her college tuition
but are paying her hospital bills
watching their daughter crumble.
This is not
So y’all can take your narcissistic
of self harm and eating disorders and committing suicide
and shove them as far up your ass
as you possibly can.
Starvation is not beautiful.
Killing yourself is not beautiful.
is not beautiful.
This note I am writing
is not beautiful.
you are beautiful
and it’s about damn time you start believing it.
I know you said we should see other people but I can’t fucking see anything but my ceiling. I haven’t gotten out of bed in 2 weeks. Fuck you. I’m done. Don’t call me back.
I want to kiss you again but I don’t think I can.
I’m drunk and I’m so sorry but I don’t think I love you. I mean… I probably love you but the way you look at me sometimes make my throat burn and I’m so tired of burning. I think I need someone who can put me out you know? Oh fuck.
I don’t care that you fucked her but did you really need to call me and tell me about it? Fuck off.
I thought you loved me. You thought I stopped filling bathtubs with my own blood. I guess we were both wrong.
It’s so fucked. I would’ve done anything for you and you ripped my heart out of my chest. Oh my fucking god I can’t believe I miss you. I’m deleting your number.
Jesus fuck your chest is empty.
That was cold. I guess I thought I meant more to you than that. I hope she makes you happy.
Did you take my cigarettes with you when you left? I’m changing the locks.
I haven’t slept and I hate you. I kissed him when you were drunk anyway. At least he doesn’t make my hands shake the way you always did.
Six months ago you drove to my house in the middle of a hurricane and you swerved your car off the road and ran the rest of the way. You were so drenched you had water pouring from your hair into your mouth so hard you could barely speak but you kissed me anyway and wiped away my tears even though your hands were too wet to do anything but drip more water down my cheeks. Now I can’t even get you to go see a fucking film with me. What happened to you?
I haven’t seen you in three weeks.
Your mother called. She was wondering who she saw with you in the backseat of your car. Fuck you.
I don’t think your parents like me. I’m sorry my skirt was too short. I’m sorry I trip over my words. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop touching your arm. I can’t do this.
I love you. I’m so sorry.
I found my favorite book in the trash. What’s your fucking problem?
It’s fine if you’re going to leave but please don’t take all of your old t-shirts with you. I need something to sleep in when things get bad. I still need you. Whatever.
I thought being with you would be better than being alone. Sorry.
Did you hide my fucking Xanax?
I never should’ve gotten so attached to you. I shouldn’t have let you in. God you’re my biggest regret and I’d do it all again. Please don’t try to come back. I’ll let you. And it’ll break me.
When I was little my father told me that if you cling to the sunshine you’ll end up on fire. You’re my sunshine. You’re my world. I’m burning alive…. Bye.
Don’t bother coming home.
You’re a terrible addiction. I’m trying to quit.
My high school English teacher told me that in a relationship one person always loves the other more and you should never be the one to love more. I love you so much I can feel my heart breaking every time I look at you. I know you don’t love me half as much because god if you did you’d be dead but you’re very much alive and staring at every pretty girl who passes you.
Sorry I couldn’t save you.
I want back my record player. And the past eight months of my life. I fucking hate you.
Answer your phone. I’m so sick of only hearing your voice on your voicemail. I can’t deal with this.
I still love you but you’re a fucking mess.