Would you?

It was right after I went to the doctor. I had taken the initiative, I had gotten help.  

Of course he would pry. He would until I was gone. And he asked

Would you.

Would you?

Hurt yourself.

I don’t know.

How is one to answer that? I would, I could, I had. I don’t know

Then he got angry, his prying made him angry.

What kind of answer is that?

If someone asked me that question I would say HELL no. 

If you find me dead, go and report a murder.

 

My insides are screaming, i am dead, go report a murder. 

I am dead.

I am dead already

I AM DEAD.

 

 

But he couldn’t see.  His question was pointless. He was too late.

I was dead already.

September 2006

I hadn’t seen her in months

and one day she called and we got dinner.  

We went to her house and walked in the dark, the cold dark.

I made it a point to tell her. I needed so badly to tell someone. That I was dead already, that I was a body without life, that I was a body that wanted to not be a body anymore.  

She told me she saw this coming and she had always been worried, then why the fuck hadn’t she called or checked on me or acted like she cared 

What the hell

What the hell 

What the hell

I was screaming in my head but my dead body stayed calm.  I am going to the doctor. I am asking for help.

 

Ok. She would call me.

I drove back home, glued my smile back on.  

 

 

Hi dad,

oh we just went to dinner and to get ice cream.

It was good to

get to see her again.