11:43pm Sept. 29, 2013

What would you do?

People think

that suicide

is just someone

who doesn’t want to live

anymore.

 

They say,

it's a long term solution

to a short term problem,

as though it's that rational.

 

They say it’s cowardice.

And it is.

 

But it’s also more.

It’s not that you don’t have the will,

it’s that you don’t have

the strength

to live

for one more day.

The pain is too much,

and you will do

anything

to stop it.

 

They say it’s an illness.

If it is,

it’s chronic.

 

Every blink

takes immeasurable effort.

Every single letter you write

trying to tell the world

what’s happening to you

when you don’t even know

yourself

uses up energy

you don’t have to give

anymore.

Each sentence brings pain

and the sleepiness

grows

stronger.

You’re just a child

who wants to close their eyes

forever.

 

It’s excruciating.

It’s unbearable.

It’s the claustrophobia

of being trapped

in your own body.

Scared,

of what’s in your own head.

It’s inescapable.

 

Or is it.

 

The darkness

is so

appealing.

Not to have to live

through the agony…

 

When every nanosecond

drags on for a millennia,

think of how long

a day may seem.

What about

the rest of your life?

 

Life’s short they say.

I say they’re wrong.

 

It’s the longest goddamn thing you’ll ever do.

 

What if you could shorten

your life sentence?

Escape

into oblivion?

If freedom

were dangled before you,

in the form of a few pills,

a rope,

a knife,

 

wouldn’t you

reach for it

too?

Author's Note

This is not about myself, but rather thoughts that came to me late at night. I want to make it clear that I do not condone suicide in any way, and if you are feeling this way, than I urge you to seek help. I don't want anyone to take this as justification to kill themselves, just because I acknowledge how hard it is. Through this poem I hope to share some of the things that were going through my head about this somewhat taboo matter. I want to hopefully shed some light and relieve some of the stigma associated with suicide, and those driven to it. If this does not accurately describe your experience, excuse my forwardness, i in no way mean to speak for any group of people, don't take offense. I would love to hear what others think, especially as I was somewhat frightened when i scribbled this down in the middle of the night a few days ago. Thoughts? Improvements? Critiques? All welcome, Also, I'd really love some help on selecting the title. "Suicide" seems to straight-forward. I want the feel of debunking popular mis-conotations, and expressing the agony some feel. Also, I want people to consider the questions, and have the sense this is a poem not only of descriptions and facts, but prompts conversation and introspection. Working title: Just to set the record straight. I could also use help on stanza spacing and flow. Thank you for your time.