excerpts from the book i'll never write

by Nadia Nell Starbinski

I’ve spent all hours of the night contemplating the words to say to you, but no combination of twenty-six different letters could ever accurately capture even a sliver of what this feeling is.

I am suffocating, yet I am the one holding the bag over my head.

SUICIDE _______________________________________ There are plenty of ways to kill yourself. Stick a gun to the back of your throat, fall asleep in the garage with the car on, jump into a river and let the rock in your chest where your heart used to be drag you to the bottom, smoke too many cigarettes, bleed yourself dry. I think the most effective way is kissing someone who’s name you will never be able to say without shaking. _______________________________________

you’re drunk off the idea that the premature sunlight will wash your sins away.

I am not here to stitch up your wounds. I am not a nurse or a doctor. I don’t know how to fix you and I wouldn’t want to try.