Suicide Note

A bullet in the temple
In the mouth
Or straight in the heart
Hanging from the ceiling
Falling from the 47th floor
The intimate touch of a razor on the inside of both wrists
All unlikely
The gun is hard to get
No rafters in the ceiling
Instinctual fear of heights
What a mess
Balancing on the edge of a bathtub full of crimson waters
Therefore
I am a villager hauling stones
In the insides of your brand new Aldo Brue shoes
The heels pushing against my breasts
In their white mesh bikini top
The one you never saw
Your shoe laces tied in a knot around my neck
Shoes so beautiful
Shiny almost
Genuine leather
Made in Italy
Maggie said you will be wearing them
When you walk out on me
A private affair
A sisterhood of stones
My back to the city
Which has an estuary
A gulf
But no seagulls
So much heat there’s steam rising from the water
Even at three in the morning
And you sleeping next to your wife
In the house of six bedrooms
Five and a half baths
A maid’s room with sky lights
Safe
I know your phone is on silent
So I call you five times
I text you to please pick up
Smiling as I do
Imagining you in the morning
Or the afternoon
Or in a week
When you find out
How you’ll blame yourself for not picking up
May be you will remember
That I stopped laughing at the internet jokes
You read me over the phone
About Brazilian waxes
And fleas spending the summer in Florida
Where you lived before we met
May be you will find me
A garland of seaweed marking the spot

Hajer