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Tell the graphologist, Tell the FBI

If I am ever found dead,
My veins opened in the bath,
Dangling from the rafters,
Or strung up and suffocated
in a rubber mask, stinking of amyl
and a smile on my face  

Know I was murdered.
Do not believe the note.

Whilst a single friend, relative or lover still lives,
Whatever lost, 
No sickness,
No insurmountable happiness,
No hopelessness 
could bring me to such cruelty 
No tangible ever-present ghost for them,
Always unrequited, and forever unrequitable.

And if I am alone, old or crippled,
Still, do not believe the note,
For there is always beauty
to be found, to strive for,
to bring into the world 

There is always beauty.
There is always adventure.
There is always love.

Do not believe the note.

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