Before I had the Chance to Commit Suicide

Wed, 10/22/2014 - 08:58 -- delarys

Location

Sometimes I wish I had the courage
to climb to my rooftop
and belly flop onto the asphalt.

With my ribs broken, my heart could pop open

like a jack-in-the-box slap-in-the-face:
depression is real.

Other nights I consider the medicine cabinet.
I search for Naproxen.
(painkillers for inflammatory diseases.)
I tried once, I told grandma
"I never wished to die,
I just wanted to reduce the swelling of my eyes,
because even when it hurts to cry the tears keep coming.”
Though, I know
if I had to choose,
it’d be by noose, because the rope I use

to connect with others
is being cut shorter and shorter everyday
and  it’d be the only way

I’d ever believe
that I could hold myself together again.
I’ve wanted to give up,
but I find that death
is never the answer to an
unmistakably
difficult life.
Our art and expression are the building blocks

of a safety net
when our hearts fall

far beyond our reach.

Our skulls

are permeated in fragments of spirit,

seasoned in lye,

burning and allowing

our brain
to drip from our heads
and into our hearts,
so that the only common sense we have
is the ability to love and understand.
Understand that our insecurities are hushed blessings.
Our excess weight
is just a heart holding it’s breath

until it can enjoy a sigh of relief
and scream,
"I’ve finally found the one."

Your stretch marks,
are gods fingerprints
when he touched your body
and cried
out to the sky
"You’ve grown so beautifully."
Your stutter is a reminder
that each word that comes out of your mouth
must be given the undivided attention
it deserves.
And while many will use our voices
as background noise for the soundtracks of their lives
we must scream
"I love you"
until our voices give.
And even then, we must give some more.
We are the organ donors

listed in the obituaries

of the Village Voice.
We must give our playful,
nectar-filled hearts out,
pressing re-do
re-do
re-do
until we find someone who will not suck us dry.
We must stretch out our arms,
with the risk of being used as a turnstile for the next stage in someone’s life.
Our smiles
are an adhesive for good things.
Wear it loudly,
especially on your bad days.
There will be those
who believe that your character
has the depths of a wishing well
and when they pour themselves out to you:
listen
and be kind.
Whisper "Love is real"
into someone else’s knees.
Give them the strength

that they need
to pray longer,
love harder,
and wish deeply
for the survival of others.
Our goal in this life
is to do away
with
ourselves
completely.

But not in misery.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741