Before, I tried suicide. Got locked up in a loony bin for a while. It’s never left my mind. I want it—even now. As we speak. I need it. But more than anything right now, I just want to talk to somebody. I don’t know. Here’s something I thought was the last thing I would ever write; guess I was wrong.
Throughout all the noise,
Withstanding all distraction.
The first form of a laugh,
Starting in your throat.
The calm overwhelms,
Takes Control;
Pats your hand, Strokes your hair.
Fatal Reassurance .
What you once feared most ,
Now your closest friend.
A smile on your face,
Until the very end.
2 comments
That poem is beautiful. Still need someone to talk to?
Yes, actually. I do.