Dear Universe,
Why are you so cruel to the ones I love and not the ones who hurt us?
It’s what I ask to you as I feel last night’s tears on my face, salty and dry.
Last night’s homework sits incomplete on my desk, shaky handwriting and clear diagrams.
The mirrors reflect a ghostly husk of me, a version most people see as me, but in reality its a
shell of what they think is me.
Universe, why are yesterday’s memories foggy, hazy, densely covered up?
Nothing more than my history.
Then allow my memories come back quick and thick.
They run wildly about my brain.
And it runs thick.
Thick as.
Thick as…
Thick. As. Blood.
Now it makes more sense as to why my reflection is ghostly.
As yesterday’s memories flood me with pain for a body that isn’t here.
The spot I thought I slept on last night is colder than the purest of Midwest snows.
My room, or what was my room begins to cool, awaiting a long winter snooze.
You allow a graze of light to hit my eye and stir dormant thoughts of yesterday.
The sun as it burns my eyes one last time as I push down on the accelerator.
Or the last ray of fluorescent light I see as I bleed out on a classroom floor.
Maybe its the light that reflects the bullet I load into the gun.
Possibly the kitchen light floating throughout the translucent pill bottle.
Either way Universe, it left me in a long, sorrowful, agonizing death.
Not quick like the momentum of the memories.
Now I wish for the innocent to not watch their own crimson leak from their body alone.
But instead be surrounded by the ones they loved most as their lungs give one last huff of air.
Though it’s to late now because I’m gone and I can’t make that change anymore.
Oh dear Universe I do hope you aren’t as cruel to them as you were to me.