Her amber eyes flickered in rhythm to her breathing
I saw her hands were stained red
She wrote me a note yesterday
All it said was “God disproves the existence of God”

She walked home alone the other day
It was raining, but not too hard
She still told me she was drowning
I asked her why she wasn’t saving her breath

She wanted to be an author when she was little
She let me read her poetry collection every day
I told her that I loved each and every one
But she would end up ripping them apart anyways

She told me once that misery loved company
I asked her if that was the only reason we were friends
She told me last week to leave her alone
I wondered if that meant she felt better now

There was a note taped to the back of her bedroom door
It was tinted blue
It must have been the last thing she touched
Before her hands went cold for good