My heart stopped beating

A poem about depression and not for the faint of heart

My heart stopped beating

　

　

　

　

　

She loons at me

I know the look

She's hiding behind the sofa

Saying he's been back banging on the door

I know it was the tumble dryer upstairs

Her eyes are bloodshot

A beautiful bright blue bloodshot

Wide as fish eyes

She's been pacing all night holding a knife

She's holding an umbrella

I took the knives last time she cut her wrists

She's in torn clothes 

I watch as she claws at her flesh

I feel my flesh tear

That's her last nice dress

No longer nice but torn and red

I give her trousers and a belt

My own only just brought

They drown her

At least she's covered

She says he's been calling her all night on the phone

I took the phone when she smashed it on the wall

I try to think of everything

In the bathroom there's hair in the chipped shabby sink

She's been pulling it out by the roots

I feel my scalp its sore, its alien

I feel everything

I removed the scissors when she shredded her scalp cutting off her hair

Saying this is why he had her

Her long golden hair

My hair

Lithium pills

In the cabinet, too many

Too many pills

She should have taken these

　

She calms

I calm

Promising to take her pills, begging don't send me back to hell

But at the secure unit she's safe

I'm safe

Says she'll have a bath

Be better tomorrow

She's settled, so I settle

I leave

　

　

I'll come back in the morning

I sleep soundly

First night in months

The morning light gives me slight hope

I can't remember this feeling much

　

I hear a crash

I run

I'm taking too long

Kicking the door in

I thank God for kickboxing

She's swinging from the oak beam in the ceiling

My belt around her neck

Juddering

I look for a knife

I look for scissors

To cut her down

Cut me down

I look for a phone to call an ambulance

　

I feel my body juddering

My heart stop beating

The belt

The new belt

I hadn't thought about the belt.