Know that as I lay here slowly dying from the rock you threw at my head,

I’m not actually dying, not even concussed, it

Just hurts, but you did not throw it at my head, you threw it at the tree and missed,

We were both throwing rocks at the tree, trying to knock of the dead, orange leaves,

Tell me, how many leaves did you knock off before you saw me on the other side

And your fingers tightened, and you threw the rock with so much force you felt so strong, until

you saw me fall down, and you wanted to run and hide, but you

Walked towards me and kissed the hole in my head,

How were you to know that I saw your long fingers turn white

And stepped back to receive a gunshot between my forehead, and as I

Lay here slowly dying from the rock you threw at my head,

Just know that in the next year the tree will have more dead orange leaves, and when I see a flat

White rock, my head hurts, and when I pick it up and bash it between my forehead just to

Remember, that I’m not actually dead, just dying slowly day by day.