Suicide note?
I've contemplated how my suicide note would read.
A vignette, or poem, or individualized letters.
Nothing could capture the way I felt when I wrote it so I wouldn't even try.
Would I want to make those who read it laugh through their mourning? Perhaps make them hate me by confessing innermost thoughts, leaving them in black gowns with a bitter aftertaste the way coffee leaves a bitter film on the tongues of those who drink too fast.
But by then I'd be much too exhausted to think out multiple notes, or a singular lengthy slip of paper that I'd tuck in my pocket or cleverly stow away beneath my pillow as I fall unconscious one last time.
Would I perhaps plagiarize the final words of mine that aren't mine?
Quote a song, source my playlist, quote my favorite book that I've read too many times to count in the classroom of the only person who would get a personal letter?
How unoriginal.
But I think as I write with shaky hand--or perhaps I'd be perfectly steady-- my own unoriginal words that float clear in my own exhausted mind. An imperfect recollection of the childish muttering that I blubber out among the stinging of tears that don't come out late at night when the moon is high and dim.
"Tell them, that I was all done."
-Indigo De Souza