The death of yourself

is always the hardest: it rips you apart twice.

Once when you do the deed

and second when you witness it from afar

At the massacre

lying beneath your nose

What hurts the most is the betrayal to yourself

the coming close to relapse

the sacrificing of months —years— of progress

the goodbye you are willing to give to your courage

strength

happiness

peace

It is knowing you are better than this ellipsis

it is knowing the ache of disappointment tighten its grip around your esophagus.

It might just be in my head, but I can feel the sickness in my veins

making my heart beat faster

I can feel the pressure in my stomach

pushing up against the surrounding organs

I can feel it telling me its discomfort

and I'm not listening.

We're supposed to listen to each other, emie

so what's happening?

Talk to me.

A cardinal; a messenger of a soul that has passed away.