The bathroom is pristine. I cleaned it special.
The rest of the house is spotless too. Empty as the day we bought it. Want it to be nice for the next occupants.
The day we bought it. Makes me sad, but I can't cry.
I get into the bath, wearing but a white dress. My note and will are obvious. Don't want things to be difficult when I'm found. Don't want to make a mess.
Pills are sending me to the final sleep. Staring at my reflection: I look beautiful, but there's nothing there now. Only glass behind these eyes.