she finally reached a place of knowing she’d be ok, and that is the biggest part of the battle. believing you are meant for the good more than the bad. -jmstorm

dear school counselor,

this is not a suicide note.

i’ve already written you one of those,

and you don’t need any more goodbyes

just more thank you’s.

so here’s one from me:

you told me you loved me once

it was so strong

i heard it over the pills

and decided to stay another night.

so thank you.

dear once-best-friend,

this is not a suicide note.

it’s an ode to flowers named george

and sticky fingers covered in whipped cream

and perfect driving.

it’s a thank you for loving me,

for taking care of me,

for believing in me.

it’s a reminder we won’t have any more moments like these,

and i don’t quite know what to do about it.

dear sophomore english teacher,

this is not a suicide note.

it’s a thank you for giving the best hugs,

even though you’re not a touchy person.

i never feel more validated

more hopeful

more seen

than when i’m with you,

and i wish you understood how wonderful you are.

dear murderer-i-love,

this is not a suicide note,

but it would make you worry anyway,

so here’s my list of hopes for you:

i hope you know how much you are loved

i hope you know how much you’re believed in

i hope you know you insipire me every day

to be myself.

because you love me like that.

dear counseling intern,

this is not a suicide note.

you already asked me about my plans to die last week,

and i told you i wouldn’t.

i look at you and see my future,

i look to you and hope for it

at least.

being an at-risk youth is more than a statistic,

but i see you

and i hope i’m strong enough.

dear biology teacher,

this is not a suicide note.

but if it were,

i promise i would tell you.

this is a thank you

for being my at-school mom,

for promising to cry at my graduation,

for holding me in my hyperventilating.

you’ve taught me more about motherhood

than my own mother

and there aren’t enough poems to say thank you for that.

dear english teacher across-the-hall,

this is not a suicide note.

we just became friends,

and i don’t know everything about you yet,

but the way i feel safe when i’m with you

makes my want to give you

my whole life story.

dear new-best-friend,

this is not a suicide note,

even though we’ve both written those.

this is the beginning of a story we’re writing

about late night car drives

guitars and ukeleles

about how shooting stars make us feel so small

in the most grand way.

dear big sister,

this is not a suicide note.

this is a promise that there will never be a car accident you’ll never forgive yourself for,

never too many pills in my body,

never an obituary labeled with my name you’ll have to see.

i love you.

dear suicide,

this is not a note to you,

i’ve written you enough for the rest of my forevers.

this is a reminder of why i hold on,

a reminder of the beautiful things my life is

and the ones it will be.

dear past self,

this is not a suicide note,

the one you’re writing will never be read.

it gets better.

i promise,

it gets better.