I watched her die
in a music video
where the floor was made of books
whose pages fluttered
in a silent wind
while the music straddled that line
between comfort and
anguish.

He screamed,
in perfect harmony,
of self-righteous suicide,
and if there was a moral
amidst emotion,
I missed it.

In chance,
happenstance,
the playlist clicks over
to remind me
to take control,
do right by me,
savour life…

But I can tell he doesn’t really mean it.