Monday, November 03, 2014

Hypothetical Suicide Note (First Attempt)

Hypothetical Suicide Note (First Attempt)


Note about this note: relax... it's just a poem. I have often wondered if I ever got to a point where consciously leaving this plain/plane was an option the one thing that always always always smacked me back into "duh, I'd NEVER do that" mode is the realization that I'd have to write and likely spend years editing my final words to the world... and editing.... and editing... proofreading and then spellchecking... oh, god... so yeah... I always thought I'd never find the right and best and most final words that anyone who has ever done themselves out of reality have written... but. good news... or bad? I finally think I've collected enough negativity over the years to channel a proper suicide note that's worthy of reading. So, here it is... for what it's worth:


Hypothetical Suicide Note (First Attempt) by Derek William Carney (c)2014

Something so a miss as          this
Identity was lent to me
I dented thee like a rented key
Spun turning endlessly
Trapped in my mind's made maze
Mad at Hell no one could raise
Turned backs too high, err, powers?
Lost wasted misplaced hours      displaced
This place     This space

Lonely.

Disgraced.

Disguised with smile crooked
Cruel-ly taped upon the face

The tears intermittently thwap... thwip... thwisp...
Stoned colder frozen frames
Reveal my self to myself
Dust-covered empty bottom shelf
Placed moments order blame
Trials have passed by so fast-
Seem lame in retrospect-
Unprotected the few and far between clearer moments overcame
And though I'll never be the same...

I'll never be the same.

I fall further   flow forgotten
Perpetual stumble- downtrodden
Tread waters 'til waves break me
Break free        make me
Take me near then far too deep
Too blind to hear the slaughtered sheep
Embrace my canine spirit tight
And wish forever sleep tonight
Kissed goodbye- gave up the fight
Quicksand slow motion
Lost the right to save what's left
of an old forgotten me
A rotted Willow tree
Never to know again what was heaven sent to thee:

This last and fading memory

What it always meant to    be       "Me."

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