Okay?

Okay?

I want to paint

Lines in arterial red

Don’t worry

I won’t make a mess

Just forget me, okay?

I’m not really worth your time anyway

But you’re so good

You’re kinder than I deserve

And I feel I might betray you

If I paint

Lines on my arms

That cannot be erased

Why wouldn't I do it?

You

Only you

So I’m sorry

I lied when I said:

I’m fine

It’s okay

Smiles of Stepford wives

But this is the truth:

I’m alive because of you

Please tell me you’re okay with that

This is directed at the people who have helped me most during my depressive episodes.  A special thanks goes to my friend, Kei-san, who was more or less instrumental in helping me through my first real suicidal period.  When I told Kei-san what I'd been considering, I got an immediate phone call, and we talked for a long time.  To call that "helpful" is a gross understatement, but I honestly cannot express in language the depth of my gratitude towards Kei-san.

So, thank you, Kei-san.

Thank you, Mother.

Thank you, Father.

Thank you, Silver-sensei.

Thank you, Kim-sensei.

Thank you.

—•—•—

"Answer: That you are here, and life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."—Walt Whitman

—L