tu... usted... yo... nosotros.

Crawling to the phone I find myself in shambles. I weep to think of the cold hard pain. Welcoming it, causing it upon myself, I despise it. I don't want to do this to myself anymore. Your stabbing, slicing, cutting ways, your words... you drive me to it. And who do I turn to? Who do I cry to for help? Why do I come to you with this? Why do I... Why do I?

I pick up the phone and my wrist bleeds on the keys.
I dial you, hoping you are there.
You scream at me, tell me I'm dumb.
I feel worse and the kind razor looks good again.
I'm ashamed I disappoint you so.


Hello to the lost souls
(best friends and bad lovers: suicide preventionists)

I've met you many times now,
In sickness and in health,
I look for you at night
Hiding in my closet.
You seek me out
And scare me so
And as my fingers fly
Across the dial,
On the other side of the line
You mark my words
I'm there.
Listen to me softly,
Speak to me your snarls
And keep me here,
My sweet dear,
Continue scaring me.
Because no man,
No braver beast
May save me from your grasp.
I look for you
From behind these eyes
And tears come streaming.
Stop the screaming.
I'm dying here by your lies.