I sit in the white porcelain, writing.
I allow red to drip, making roses on the snowy surface
Relief. As if every weight I have ever felt has been lifted.
Mommy, Daddy, this is not your fault.
Dearest sister, don’t follow after me.
This world was not meant for me, and not I for it.
Do not grieve for me, for soon I will be singing.
I will watch with a smile from above
As you continue living the life you were meant.
I must go now, I see more roses blooming.
I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Do not grieve for me, for I am finally happy.