a man named suicide

i was pulled into a world of suicide.

i often woke, in a peaceful wish, to pass from whatever i felt. it stung. i did not know it had a name. a blank stare at a world passing by that never seemed to stop and say hi.

i did not appreciate the genius of creation. the sparks i saw when i closed my eyes or the beat of a heart, misshapen. not the perfect lines aliens drew. their hearts were desirous and mine turned blue, even with oxygen, i could barely breath. no one bothered to check the air exiting or entering, they assumed all was well.

a man named suicide

a dapper gentleman, suicide
quietly enters a life to steal a life.
he does not want to die
so he drives souls to the edge
keep his moment alive.
(what if i fought back, would he fight harder still?)
i feared and loved him all the same
time passing, he changed.
his long-faced demeanor approached, larger than life.
a dug grave, so deep, i knew he could entomb me
the white flower i held,
grasped tight.
had someone told me to throw it in
i would have gone along for the fall.

*God knew i was hurting, turning His back. Knowing I was slipping from His hands.
Like Job He tested my faith. Like Job I surrendered my soul to Him. God won.

suicideFor me this means Jesus. For others it may be a friend.

Art Memoir Poetry

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