If I die young...

I wonder sometimes, what words they'd say at my funeral

If I died tomorrow, who would care?

Who would show up?

My friends I suppose. If only out of obligation.

Maybe some others. Those that go to funerals to improve reputation.

My family I'm sure; for them I'd feel the sorriest.

But what about the others?

Would he go?

If I were dead would that make him give a fuck about me?

It's morbid I guess, but I can't help it.

I know I won't,

But I contemplate the idea of suicide now and again.

Always have.

It's like this comforting crystal ball I like to juggle on the edge of my palm.

Knowing at any second it might drop,

while at the same time staring into it's beauty and wonder, knowing something precious is in my hands.

But there's moments like these.

Moments were it hurts so bad I can't turn it off.

I can't control it.

I feel nothing but pity, and sorrow, and loneliness, and like such an absolute unwanted freak.

Moments like these that the idea of never waking up tomorrow -

or sooner even; ending it all in the next five minutes -

it seems like the sweetest gift I could give myself.

The peace,

the quiet.

I've never found it here.

No matter how much I search I can't seem too.

So it's hard not to wonder if perhaps it's time to let go of this world; if maybe that which I seek is waiting for me somewhere else.

So I wonder, what would they say?

Who would take the blame?

Would they claim me troubled?

Lie and call it some "tragedy."

Would they suddenly care?

Would they read the words I've written?

Find sudden brillance in what was once just a mere girl?

Or would I simply slip away?

For surely no school would hold grand ceremony; no one would get bumper stickers or tattoo their backs.

So what would they say about me?

Who would notice?

Would I shake any realities?

Touch any hearts?

If I died tomorrow,

would that finally be enough for you to care?