when they find me i want them to think i'm sleeping. to lift the body and feel it's still warm, chest rising and falling, only more like the ocean than like breathing. search for a pulse, come up empty, but it's only like the wrong turn on a road trip, a pretty wayside neighborhood, a glimpse of where things could have gone, what could have been, and it's only a drive back to the highway before they forget, leave it glimmering in the distance. i want the mourning with no guilt. let me be an archaeological site, an excavation, dusted off and examined in pieces—
held tenderly, carefully to the light
like i was always supposed to.
-
wip / journal entry <3 i have been so suicidal lately
