“They are my friends”

“They are my friends”

I keep telling myself that as I walk.

I say it not loud enough for others to hear,

But loud enough for myself to hear.

“They are my friends”

I walk up the steps to the house.

Open the door,

But leave it wide open for the world to see.

“They are my friends”

I walk down the hall to the small coat closet.

Leaving the light off,

I pull a small, folded up paper out from my pocket.

“They are my friends”

I sit with my back up against the wall.

My legs are pulled up close to my chest,

But not close enough.

“They are my friends”

I place the note on my lap.

Then I pull out the box that holds them…

I pull out a razor blade from this box.

“They are my friends”

I place the razor against my wrist,

And wait a single moment.

The blade seems to glide deeper into my wrist.

“They are my friends”

The job had been done,

As they ordered me to.

Now time starts…

“They are my friends”

The only thing that was on the folded up paper was…

“They were my friends”

Those words were placed…..