Dear Journal,
There's a lake near by.
There's the deep end in the pool.
A knife in the cabinet, in my heart it should lie.
Anything I can get to kill myself, that's my new life rule.
A pencil in my desk, a sharpener too.
Maybe a pen or a broken glass.
I found a gun, oh what do I do?
Go lay outside hidden away from the tall grass.
Death is near, death is here.
He had come for me he wants my soul.
He beckons to me tells me to come near
Holding out his hands he holds out a bowl
I peer inside and my mouth drops wide
Two things in the bowl both capable of killing me
The first is a bullet, then she's at it's side
There she stands it's good old Rosie.
She stares at me with sad eyes
She's saying her good byes
She tells me not to die
Not yet not yet I let out a sigh
I raise the gun high in the air
She stares at me don't you dare
"Goodbye Rosie"
I throw the gun at death and he disappears
See you later, don't be so nosy
But then a bang is heard and ringing in my ears
I stare down.
Blood.
Sincerely,
Will
YOU ARE READING
Dear Journal,
Non-FictionWill's beloved Rosie is long gone. All he has left if her is a picture, her diary and memories, regrets and broken promises. Book Two in the Dear Diary Series Book one: Dear Diary
