the first time I wrote a suicide note
It was during high school.
I sat in a closet crying late at night, with a bedside table, a notebook paper, and a pen.
I wrote about how much things hurt and how my parents would regret not giving me the attention and care I needed.
I wrote about how I hoped my sister was hurt by it.
I wrote about how it could have been different.
I chickened out, put the belt away and spent some time folding it into a paper plane through tears.
Opening up the window, I threw it off the balcony, for it to instantly nose-dive into the back yard.
Late at night, I crept downstairs to retrieve my failed pilot, and to give it a secondary flight into the bushes for good this time.
The next morning I saw it again from my bedroom window.
I forget how much time passed from then, but one day I looked for it and it was gone.