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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