Nibbles

suicide

i am writing because i hope that it relieves some of the despair and i will keep fantasy as just that.

i am thinking of the sharp knife in the kitchen. buying that knife in seattle gave me the only thing i own that i think i can kill myself with.

i imagine just sending him one last text. please tell my mother i love her, and see that my body makes it home to her.

i will climb in the bathtub, a warm bath, take the bottle of clonazepam. i googled it, apparently i can’t overdose on it, but it would knock me into a stupor which would leave me the courage to die.

i don’t know which is more humiliating, the betrayal, or being left to die in the mire he’s left behind.

i’ve called him 15 times with no response. i am a wasted worthless woman.

i have attracted the same man to my side twice.

i lost both of them.

i wanted to love. i would forgive and love.

once i slept with a knife and feared dying.

now i will sleep in death with a knife, i fear living.

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