New here, thanks for the site

It felt good to unload in my first post.  I came here because I need a place to talk about these things where no one knows me, where no one can judge, or be horrified, or worst of all, try to intervene.  I’ve been dealing with suicide for a very long time — at least thirty years.  That’s a big part of why I’m so tired. I wonder how long I’m supposed to keep going like this, and I really want to keep my options open.

I notice that poetry is welcome here, so by way of introduction, I thought I’d share some poems I wrote years ago.  I’ll start with the oldest, written when I was about twenty or so.  I had left an abusive home at seventeen, and I thought I was finally free.  Except for the “liquid glee,” it applies even more today than it did then.

My old, old friend,
How much more poignant,
Your visit now,
When I thought I had done with you forever.

Shall we spend our time in our usual way?
Staring out a window in silence,
Thinking too much,
About not enough.
Or perhaps with forced, liquid glee?

So here you are once more.
How I hate and fear,
Your cold, cold touch.
It’s good to see you again,
My old friend.