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Inner Dwellings of Guilt by Lucien

Trigger warning: this poem contains sensitive content, such as allusions to suicide.



Dear future self,


How is college? Have you tried the salads at the Cheesecake Factory? Now that you’re in America I figured maybe those


3 eggs. A pack of strawberries.

Heinz ketchup. Red lipstick. Tomatoes.


Would be absolutely delicious. But what am I saying? It’s ok if you get rejected. Classics has always been a tough class, with Plato, Socrates and


Ray Ban Glasses. The pair that doesn’t shatter.

A fine screwdriver. To fix small holes and uneven ridges.


Aristotle. I hope that failing my literature test is well off your mind now.


Bandages for splinters. Alcohol for bigger wounds.

Doctor’s supplies and first aid kits. First aid kits.


God I do hope you’ve forgotten it. What am I saying? Of course you have. It must be five years later when you’ll be reading this.


In a lighter tone, has anyone caught your eye yet? I also really can’t seem to find my colour yet, or what to wear…


Tuxedo. Freshly pressed.

Black roses.

Maybe you could attach below some photos or memories,


Flashlights and a secondhand car. A forgettable license plate.

A forgotten memory.

Envelop. Parchment.


like maybe I could reply. Haha.


Search history


Second-hand bookshops nearby


Poemics, Aristotle


Common hiking trails


How to stop insomnia


But don’t be afraid to let loose, y’know? But not too loose.



Sometimes life does get dreary, I know this.


Sleeping pills


Flights tomorrow


You know that too, of course, much more than me obviously.


Flights available tonight


But face your problems head on, as you always tell yourself, ok?


Cheaper countries to live in in Europe


Life will get better once you do.


East Coast flight tickets

Doesn’t it?


Call transcription with M. Abernathy (21:00-21:03)


Abernathy: How’s Scotland? Feeling any better?

Subject: Do you miss him?

Abernathy: Mittens? No, not any more.

Subject: Do you miss him?


God, I’ve written an awful lot. You must be tired sick of me babbling on and on.

Subject hangs up.


Don’t forget about me ok? I love you.

God I must sound so narcissistic to you, or me, whatever.

Yours truly,

Suicide note, never finished.



Lucien is a Hong Kong-based writer who loves the smell of candy stores. He has published in the Coexist Literary Magazine, Iceblink Literary Magazine, and the Graveyard Zine, among many others.

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