Suicide (Goodbye)A Poem by The Cunning LinguistWhat if I decided to kill myself?
Disclaimer " This poem does not reflect my current state of mind. It is exactly what it is, creativity at its’ finest.
I lay in bed and look up at the ceiling late at night, the same as many nights before, but sumthin just aint right, I'm fighting major drowsiness and yes I'm kinda shook, I hope it doesn't hurt those 40 sleeping pills I took. I'm tired of the life I'm living cause it's all a joke, I try and mask the misery with alcohol and smoke, the pain is cause for laughter even though it badly hurts, I talk and badly slur I guess it's gone from bad to worse. I think about my daughter growing up without me here, I'm sorry Stinky Faces; Daddy's thinking thoughts through tears, emotions mixed with medicine; my thinking's not too clear, I'll miss the coming years in which to chase away your fears. It shouldn't have ever come to this, it really isn't fair, I should've took assistance but my pride just didn't care, the weight's become too burdensome for mind and soul to bear, I get up, try to walk and fall face first into a chair. I'm on the floor and leaking from the gash above my eye, commercials on the TV say to kiss my a*s goodbye, but it's not really saying that; it's all inside my mind, so funny what you hear when on the verge of time to die. I'm thinkin on my peoples and I'll damn sure miss them so, there's Chosen, Nikki, Lady Ice, D. Sweets plus Lou and Stone, the family, my homie Rich; bright lights just make me stare, it feels like something's grabbing at me; baby take me there. My thoughts soon turn to wifey and the pain that she'll endure, to fix whatever ails me God I wish she had the cure, I'm happy I won't live to see the hurt that's in her eyes, to know I caused this for my baby; I deserve to die. The blood loss leave me motionless, the pills have hit their stride, with visions of the park I rode my bike in all those times, so long ago when I was young but times have rolled on by, my final thought is of my child and then I close my eyes.... goodbye. ©2011 The Cunning Linguist © 2014 The Cunning LinguistAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorThe Cunning LinguistWanaque, NJAboutBorn & raised in Newark, NJ, T.C.L. started writing poetry at age 14 and continues to let a wide variety of topics influence his writing and is not afraid to tell it how he feels it, no matter who get.. more..Writing
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