I often wonder how many days-
must I endure before eternity
decides to erase me?
Not one to lie, I have tried to
help her along at times.
I tried to die once.
I practiced for days. Considering
my options and taking into
account the feelings of others.
Call me a considerate suicide
planner.
Pharmaceuticals and booze I soon
found out are hardly fail safe. I swallowed
a rainbow full of capsules and shot
bourbon for an extra boost. I woke
to interrogating lights and invasive tubes.
I had succeeded in failure. The men in white
coats pumped out the poison and shipped
me off to a crazy house full of other
suicide rookies and problems far worse
than mine.
I had left no letter, just in case of success.
Everyone knew I was teetering on the edge,
life had beat me up and left me for dead anyway.
Why prolong my agony?
Tough to comment on a tough poem like this. All I can say is I am glad you are still here to write about your experience. This is a brave subject to share with others and displays your inner strenght.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Keep strong, and keep writing