An Old Friend

Are you tired of feeling all alone? Let me keep you company, my dear.

I like suicide.

I keep it close, an old friend who visits around the holidays and sleeps on my couch. 

He comes, wearing red, like always, dressed a little too warm for the weather.

We stay up late and tell each other things we would never admit to anyone else.

He has a way of looking at you with those deep blue eyes and making you feel 

like he’s never looked at anyone else the same way.

We sit by the fire and tell each other ghost stories and tales of our past.

Everything is old but it feels brand new.

We flirt, we laugh together, laugh at everything, things that shouldn’t be laughed at.

We make big plans, which always seem to dissolve by morning.

Let’s run off together, you and me. Wouldn’t it be spectacular? 

Isn’t it a shame, all these years we’ve known each other you’ve still never tasted bleach.  

Suicide is brash and spontaneous; he demands a snap decision, 

and when I hesitate he stares at me, disappointed

And the word in his eyes, but not on his lips is, coward.

If I were a true artist, if I were really free, I would join him. 

I would recognize the futility of all the things I do,

I would throw off my chains. 

All of this is fleeting, hopeless. Come with me.  

The passion in those eyes frightens me sometimes.

By morning he is gone,

off to thrill someone else with his charm, romantic tales and wild ideas. 

I only smile quietly to myself, as I clean up whatever’s left 

from the previous night.

In the end, I’m glad I turned him down, 

but he will be on my mind for days afterwards. 

A small part of me wants to call him, 

beg him to come back, 

tell him I’ve changed my mind:

I’m ready now. 

I know he will come again

Just like every other time before, loudly--

unannounced and expectant

And I will welcome him, like I always do.

Author's Note

so I wrote this for a creative writing class when we were asked to write about an abstract concept as if it were a person. I played with bravery and hope and love and sadness but nothing else really took shape like this. my professor called it "gut-wrenching" which might be my favorite comment I've ever gotten about my work.
I feel like it's important to note that in high school they made me read The Awakening by Kate Chopin and that influenced this in a pretty big way. the narrator is in an abusive relationship with life, but can never quite get up the courage to leave him and abandon her domestic duties in search of self-fullfillment and freedom.

Reviews

[zainul]

You captivated me by the magic of your words.
Your professor perfectly called it "gut-wrenching".
I appreciate your creativity in creative writing.
Congratulations,dear poet!

[Priyankaabhilaashi]

Fabulous piece.. Keep Sharing..!!!

Simply loved it.. :-)

[Luke L]

Very interesting concept I liked it a lot

[holly j]

Very clever use of dialogue, it's incredibly effective in personifying what most sweep under the rug. Beautiful xo

[Sami Khalil]

A good write on suicide...Thank you for sharing...:).....................

[Elle Thompson]

thanks you for reading ^_^X

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...Any time...:)................