it is quick and painless. if done right. for the suicide.
and if you really choose it in the end. just remember: there is always reincarnation
i'm at my aunt's house. in worcester. though now she lives. in springfield. where i'll be. in less than a week. and we're watching in the basement. watching the television. the one where you can get your fill of tacky pornography if you're focussed on that type of thing. my sister is watching a movie. the one with jenifer love hewitt. the one that to this day she says is horrible and stupid. she is focused. her eyes are blank. i make a comment and get shot down by something i can't remember. this is years ago. before i met you. before i met chris and sally. before i met anyone. oddly i remember the trivial facts. i'm easily physically imprinted by events. something of a psychological bruising perhaps. but actually not at all. everything else slips throught the cracks in the pavement. "stupid retard!" i skulk back upstairs. or perhaps i merely climb. stoic faced. i'm strong i guess. everyone else is asleep. hours pass by. i sit bolt upright. in my aunt's spare room. alone. in the dark. some light streams through the window. my sister's probably asleep. or watching another stupid movie. i stare at the walls. the ceiling. i tremble slightly. i shake. tears well up in my eyes. barely moving down my cheek. liquid that tastes slightly of salt pool at my lips. lukewarm. indifferent. running down my chin. barely soaking the collar of my shirt. nevermind about the blankets. the floor. i think about drawers. imagining the glint of a dull metallic gray. i shake again. but in a different way. the metaphor. myself. it wouldn't be polite to mess up their kitchen floor. it seemed so pleasantly bare this evening. the end.
