Why Don't I?

Why don't I just kill myself?
Already you're worrying, letting out a moan
And Questioning my mental health
As you dial 911, Fearing that I'll soon be a dial tone

Six words, the number it took to make your heart race
To make it feel hurt and gripped
By the horrible sensation of losing someone you love, out of place,
And stripped
of that silver lining of joy that helps you cope
With the idea of your life being wrung out and mine strung up by 5 feet of rope

Most answer the question with questions too breathless and breadthless to stop me from breathing less and seeing death, like
What's wrong?
What would I do if you die?
Why?

"Why?" They ask me as I measure out a dose prescribed to stop my heart, bring foam to my mouth and Make the room swirl with a blind man's art

"Why?" They would ask as I climb the steps of a tall building, tears in my eyes and tears in my will, no longer willing, as I step off the ledge and wait for the moment when time stands still

"Why?" They would ask as I leap into the cold sea, my body flung
With heavy weights binding my feet together as I plunge into waves as shallow as their question and answer them with the air thrust from my lungs

And then the cacophony of heartless inquiry is pierced by a sound that rattles the grounds of my argument, and is allowed to ring loud despite the prattling of the crowd

Because my silent heart beat would bring heat to the blood of your cheeks
And you'd feel hollow today into tomorrow as you thought about a life where my soul weren't hallowed and hailed as 'happier'

And my cold skin, lifeless, devoid of feeling or thought would feel guilty over the fact that I had brought your heartstrings to a state so taught and wrought with pain that I would be brought back to life to apologize.

So, why don't I just kill myself?
I realize now that, though this depression can sometimes drill the idea of ending this session into my mind, I couldn't bear to know I had left someone that cared like you do behind.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

ryangigs

I wrote this during a darker time, when I wasn't entirely sure what I had to look forward to. I did have my girlfriend, brother, and dad to think bout, though. Thinking about them helped me cope with some of the difficulties I had, and helps me stay in a brighter mood now. Even though I'm still uncertain about a lot of things, I do know that I'm a big part of their life. Though guilt isn't necessarily the fix, it is one that helps inspire other ideas of why I'm meant to be here. 

I sought to express the ideas floating through my head and the ideas that might come to my loved ones' minds. I also wanted to express the public's view of suicide and prevention as I see it. I find that it comes off as rather shallow at times, and should be treated with more respect and a more serious tone.

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