death wish (suicide lies)

guilt drives staggered bones
the edge becomes
a point to ponder

what matters beyond
his farewell
unannounced -death arrived

luring me closer
take the plunge
you can thank me later

Rambling on

I love people. ☔️ I cannot stand what words form in their heads, exiting through perverted lips. I am in disbelief as i witness the world change and not for the betterment of people. It demands i too become an ignorant follower of self. I cannot find the true church. I relish past hugs from the Holy Spirit. Wind swept, i remain in those cherished moments He spoke to me. I ask forgiveness for this insistent disbelief since John left this earth. I miss my band of friends in Indiana. We did not hang out as much as i would have liked but at least i did not feel so lonely. Soon i will take a drive to the ocean. I pray the waves settle my heart enough to sleep tonight💜 🌊 and not continue to pray my soul joins my brother in heaven.

just a few words…

For such a quiet person, I write a lot.

This simple sentence is me in a nutshell. Although i don a cracked exterior, which has let in too much world. Now i exist as warped. A walking, wounded soldier, who has witnessed too much pain. In turn, i turned crass. I am working on that aspect of me, but in reality, reality has sunken in from the first funeral i attended as a child, unable to look at the lifeless figure of a person i adored, until the moment i snuck a letter into my brother’s cold hand.

He clenched that letter as if his life depended on it. I believe he did one last loving thing for me. There was no removing those words i sent him off with. They now reside in each breath i take. Forever dust in the wind. And each snowflake, a kaleidoscope of memories shared.

I don’t recall what i wrote in my anguish. That letter held a lifetime of our experiences in less than 50 words. Writing it set me free from my heart. At least for the moment.

Today, reading a blurb on infp personality, i realized how little my brother and i talked, yet we understood each other so well. Often our eyes would connect and both of us would burst with laughter. Mostly at my dad’s expense which he never took to, too kindly. I recall one such incident in a restaurant in Madison WI, on our way to visit his parents. We both considered ourselves safe, being in public, amongst watching eyes, but boy were we wrong. He kicked us both under the table.

Silence can be a relationship killer. So is violence. My dad treated us both with that kind of discipline, which was learned from his father. Which was learned somewhere else, along the generational lines. Then a few days later it would be a trip to the soda station where they bottled his favorite drink, since he gave up beer from his Army days. It was always confusing to consider my father. What exactly was he expecting of us?

It killed my dad to know my brother committed suicide. It never dawned on him to consider why. It broke him but never encouraged him to change. He died set in his ways. I never left my dad a letter. Nor did I cry. I had nothing to give him. And only one tear was shed for my mother.

It is just the way life was growing up and it never changed for as long as our family was together. We were together but never aware of each other. It certainly made it easy to say goodbye.

Away

 

Historic Fletcher Place Neighborhood, Indianapolis

 

It should have been me

We both knew it
you were the better one -blind
i couldn’t see the answers

You were long gone

Traveling with your etched smile
you told me you loved me
asked if i was all right.

It was you -not me

Both of us drowning and nothing
that day. Barely, time has passed
the road curves and you walk away.

Away. And i am forced to stay.