
want me when i’m gone
I bought a beautiful black dress to kill myself in. But now I’m wondering if red is a better color to die in, to match the color slowing in my veins, maybe support a bloodstain lipped as an accessory.
Or maybe I’m avoiding things.
They only want me once I’m not theirs anymore
I’m the ‘it’ll do’
The afterthought
The ‘I suppose so’
But now I will simply
be
gone