I slit my wrists and let myself bleed.

I want to see

What is the colour of my blood and how it feels?

to be next to death.

Is he comforting or is he mean?

I want to make him my friend.

Can he take over all this weight?

That makes me not want to breathe.

or is he stiff

Is it trustworthy to make him see

the secrets that I concealed deep in me

What about the love letters I wrote to him?

Why did death not respond?

Is he like them? Does he not want me?

or just like me. He does not feel