BANG, BANG, BOOM, BOOM, BANG
put the rope around your neck
and then simply hang

                                         Kelly McManus

overthinking is the key
to destruction
and i have demolished cities

My periods turn to semicolons
My suicide notes to poetry
My goodbyes became hellos
The blades turn to sunflowers
And the bullets, a rose
My heart still is broken
But the pieces have been found
Death isn’t for me anymore
What is, in the here and now
I still don’t feel enough
But I am alive
And that’s enough to say
Today is not the day I die.

We will miss you
And that’s okay.
We said we’d win
Whatever it takes.

For the good of the world
You had to jump.
We all know that,
Yet it still cuts.

Are you happy there?
Do you know we won?
And what about him?
Do you know what he’s done?

You both together
Are the reason we won.
You jumped, he snapped.
It worked, but you’re gone.

Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.

FIRST NAME LAST NAME

I just wanted to say I.
I'm sorry.

I didn't mean for you to ever listen to these.

I didn't mean to let go of the edge.
I didn't think I'd actually go through with it.
But here we are, and that only means one thing.
I finished it.

It's hard to find these words to say,
Without sounding cheesy or stupid.
All I know is that I'm not a burden anymore.

Is Dec 12th. About 12:30 or so.
I could've called you instead.
I could've- I could've-

I could've done it.

We are not afraid of the mirror,
We are afraid of the monster it shows.
We are afraid of porcelain skin
stained red,
afraid of never finding the bone,
afraid of never finding the very
core essence of our control.
I am afraid of being too much,
of not being enough,
of this skinny love
for a non-skinny reflection,
afraid of failing
if I am never able to see
my porcelain bones
imprinted on porcelain skin,
my very core
protruding from within.

I am my own control.
and one day,
I shall see it in the mirror,
even if I have to fall into it
and become the monster within.

in this life,
I had not realized I had learned,
for it is one of the first
we are ever taught.

Our first experience
of this world, consists only
of cold and pain, yet,
we learned how to breathe
in the harshness
of this reality.

So ingrained is this truth that
we rarely dwell upon it.
It is only when oxygen is denied us
that we remember our first lesson in life.

To breathe.

Just breathe,
and keep breathing.
Calm you heart and your mind.
Life may be out of your control but
you can control the constriction
of your lungs.

Take solace in the knowledge that
everything will be alright,
as long as you remember
to breathe.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.