The Morning After
The morning after my suicide
At around maybe, 4 or 5 AM
Before anyone is awake to find me
The air would be as crisp as it was the day I was born
The sun would rise earlier than usual
And the birds would sing a song that's so familiar, it feels new
The wind chimes would hum to the gentle breeze
And every coffee shop would open like nothing ever happened
The trees would dance with the wind
Bacon would sizzle on the pan and eggs would be cracked
The kettle would buzz and despite the objective quietness, it's loudly reassuring
And if I were still alive, I think I would've reconsidered
The morning after my suicide would be beautiful
And I am sad I won't be around to see it
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