y do we all do it? suicide is a condition we all have in common. Wat’s the occurrence that holds us? i think i would have liked life but mine is shit suicide in music art poetry, media Internet books,movies. its in a lot of day to day life but the taboo holds for the extremity of the reality of suicide. i have stopped cutting and going to the nut house. but still death floats in my head. a girl thirteen took the knife from her bag and dug it into the skin and across her arm. the blood flowed out painting the skin down to the pavement. the boy just sixteen sat in the back of his class and cut his wrist with the dull razor; who would know their thoughts as they harm themselves but the sight is transparent. when will i cut again or when will we stop dying or is it eternal?
i woke up this morning the thoughts came back like the tide. i looked to the dresser seeing my precision blade. but i sit staring at it for minutes staring the i rub the skin where i cut, the ridges of scars like a picture of expression. till now the calmness was peace, but now the voices start. how can i stand the threat of my life’s ease? so i cross the room to my dresser i lift my shirt and soon the blood will seep through the cotton. this time i pick a girls name to carve” APRIL”. the name crusted over with brown scab. i peel it down to the meat again this time less blood but still the light of the skin tearing from the edges keeps my interest as i look on the urge rises again. now the word “PIECES” bleeds out as i wonder where my imagination comes from to the next cut an “X”. tonight i will sleep like every night but maybe I’ll die in my sleep but i doubt it. the next time you see me will you see another disturbed person or will you see trash? hmm.
2 comments
I see my deceased daughter. She cut, too. Soon I will be with her; I assume she was bipolar just like mom.
You can find help. You can learn how to be happy.