dear frank,
ive had enough. i long for your touch.
my stomach was empty and i am certain it will work. i can feel it bubbling now, and it is uncomfortable, but nothing like the stinging pain of a blade. i took the pills with melted cookie dough ice cream, your favourite. you always joked about dying with a spoon of ice cream in your hand.
well, frankie, your lover seems to be doing jist that. my hand is shaking, and i apologize for this letter's garbled chicken-scratch. i am trying. you need to see. i love you, frank, and i am sure you do too.
even from within your coffin that i decorated so nicely. it was so bittersweet, seeing you get lowered into the ground. the casket was lovely and i am hoping mine will be the same.
i love you so much, frankie. so much.
but now the pills are coming into effect and my head is pounding painfully and it's swimming in circles and chasing small gasps my eyes hurt and are rimmed in black. they are spiky and hurt my heart. its funny.
but ironically, who knew id be
dea
