I wasn't sure how, or where, or why,
but I knew it'd feel necessary.
I'd seen it happen different ways.
One was by night.
I'd climb out of my window, sprint to the bay and
drown myself there.
A wandering fisherman would find my body.
Another was around midday—out in broad daylight.
I'd run out to the street and let the first car hit me.
The woman would scream at the last second and
death would be quick.
I also saw myself sitting on a wooden floor,
a bottle of pills clutched tightly in my right hand.
I'd down the whole thing, then curl up and go to bed.
Except I wouldn't wake up.
All these seemed ideal compared to the various rape,
torture and kidnapping scenes I'd never gotten out of my head.
Now, I'm not romanticizing my suicide.
I'm just telling you how I saw it vividly inside my own head.
I could lie and tell you this is was all folly,
but what use would lying do when you're
Already dead?
..........
I didn't mean to alarm any of you. I'm sorry.
I'm okay, I promise.
Hasta la próxima,
Much love xoxo
Maya
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