Suicide Note With Crayons
Suicide Note With Crayons
by s. joaquin rivera
If I knew you were going to kill yourself I might have pressed for a few more moments with you. No one gets what they want though. I carved the word ‘quitter’ into your mirror so you’d have to look it every time you made yourself up but I guess that didn’t matter much in the end did it? How ironic that you used the glass from that same mirror to bleed yourself out in warm water; must have made for a nice bath.
–
I punch the dead man but still he will not react
I don’t know what I expect as
he swings back and forth in the cold air
I punch him again, and once more
nothing, just the same stupid look on his face and
the sound of the hooks in his flesh, creaking
the dead do not fight back
instead they only stare at you with their comeuppance
that all knowing glare that says: hit me all you want, you stupid fuck
I’m dead
–
A dinner in hell
amidst the burning flesh
sipping our sour wine out of broken glasses
and serenaded by their screams
the sky is falling indeed
it is the way of all things
–
I almost want to call you on the telephone but
I suspect I would not have the courage to say anything and I
can almost hear you saying: hello? Who’s there? hello? who the fuck is this?
there is no sound, just silence as I clutch the cord and think
of how I never forgave you. I know that
one of these days I will write your obituary
I just wish I could watch as you
blow your brains all over the room
–
the internet holds many secrets but some
are easier to uncover than others
it is amusing on a certain level that
you take pride in your own humiliation
you look just so thoroughly used
whoever took the picture captured
your complete debasement
used really doesn’t even begin
to describe the look in your eyes,
whore of the year
–
there is blood in the streets tonight
flowing through the gutters
rushing down the drains and into refineries
only to be leaked into open seas
where it is consumed and spent once more
absorbed and evaporated
©2008 S. Joaquin Rivera/ Broken Sword Publications, All Rights Reserved
Tags: blood, critical bill's mind, dead punching bag, fiction, Hell, prose, suicide note, whore
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