Imagination Suicide

I listened to the screams of silence, smelled the stench of soaked vomit and watched the woman hang herself to death.

It sparked a question in my mind and awoken an urge that hasn't been felt in a long time.There she was, swinging back and forth, legs slightly jerking and fingers twitching as the last bit of regret is choked from her.

I sat on the couch with a tired brain and a tired body. I imagined you sitting here with me, watching the woman's last moments, rhetorically commenting on ‘How can I watch this?’ The light in the room ran off with the scene of the crime. I smiled weakly at my mind's feeble wishes for company besides the sad echoes of reflection.

There it began again.The migraines cramped up as I buried myself in the cushions, there's no harm in pretending to not be alone... It only works if you are truly alone because if someone (flesh and blood) happens to walk in and find you talking to a empty seat… well then you would just be another crack case. Let me emphasize. I'm not. Not. Crazy. It is just that for some reason, you catch me in my weirdest moments.

Then I caught the mirror staring at me. Ghastly. This man had not a wink of a sleep in that many days. I thought of changing my physical appearance. There's no harm in changing one's appearances especially if it gets boring looking at the same old reflection in the mirror... Always green, always pale... Always wearing that tired expression giving away that I've been up with my bad dreams again.

If you were here... If only. I think you could understand how when something makes you happy and it isn't quite the same as before... Warm cloth on a winter's day.

I can half imagine you offering to be my stylist. Maybe dye my hair, change my wardrobe, start me on a cologne and make me new glasses.

I look over at the phone. Dust sleeps on it. You should have called awhile ago... I should have called you a long time ago.

Then there is that empty seat next to me... But like most people, they just don't care anymore, don't give a shit. And that's the worse... When your the only one trying to fit the pieces of fragments together and there's millions of little pieces scattered every where.

Peering up the wall and towards the window... the pale morning beginning to form and I wonder if a vampire feels like this at dawn. Exhaustion, regret and relief?

You hang the rope around your neck and gave one to me.

Your pretend silence says it all.