The night I attempted it
they said it was just a phase
I was not suffering,
it was just a hard day.
Little did they know
it wasn’t the first try
and I really did wish I could die.
I guess they didn’t know
all about me
and how i was an artist
underneath my sleeves.
But if they saw inside my head
they would know the truth
about that night
on the roof.
Because it was not a phase
or just a bad day,
my mind is a twisted
chaotic maze.
They would see
it happens all the time,
the depressing thoughts
that suffocate me like a vine.
Perhaps it’s best that they don’t know
the reasons
because every day to me
is suicide season.

with apologies to Aaron Sorkin*

The atheist starts off with,
“this is silly.” I think I see
him sense the abrupt change
of atmosphere walking through
the threshold into a chapel like
plunging into lake water naked.
When the actress kneels, the atheist explains
how God shouldn’t be so vain, I think of
the actress and whether or not, with her real
kneeling in the fake chapel, she actually prays.
She says, “You don’t kneel for Him; you kneel for you.”
The atheist storms out saying that “This just doesn’t
feel right,” The atheist is outraged that a mother is bleeding
to death, her baby may have no father, and someone’s
little brother is being held hostage by Islamic fundamentalists.
I remember two conversations:
Courtney telling me that God wasn’t saving me
when my brake lines rusted out in the TGI Fridays
parking lot instead of on the 74 bridge.
River telling me that she feels blessed that God has watched
over all the people in her life who have attempted
suicide, because they failed. She hastily tries to add
that God was also watching over Jenny, but is too
worried that she hurt me. Right before the scene switches
The actress looks upand tells God
that the atheist “made some good points.”

the culture cut into our wrists.
feeling all or nothing was the trick.
kurt and elliot were dead,
pretty prescriptions we all wed.

we talked vicious and vague.
it kept our parents afraid.
only bought music if it was recorded in omaha.
quoted lyrics to the traditionals, oh my god.

the corners of every corridor were crammed.
glazed eyes making meaningless, drifting forlorn.
"i feel sad"
"gee, that's awful bad."

if they weren't depressed,
they were called liars.
if they were on anti-depressants,
they were kings.
if they attempted suicide,
they were a pope.

projections we were.
of all the dead words we heard.

I am a hypocrite.
I tell my friends they have to eat,
when I don't.
I tell them not to listen to what others say
when I do.
I tell them they shouldn't cut
when i do
I tell them life is worth living
when I've attempted suicide.
I tell them to be happy
when I'm battling depression.
But regardless,
know I am here
For anyone battling depression
Anyone considering suicide,
Cutting,
Not eating,
Questioning their self worth,
Or maybe just sad.
I am here.

You are poetry;
I can see it in the jagged lines that run across your forehead,
I see it in your sad forced smiles-
And your curled fingers with your soul dipped ink dripping down your hand
You are covered in poetry so beautiful
But all you see is a broken girl
With a haunting past of a daddy that abandoned you
And an ex boyfriend who broke your heart
You think 'attempted suicide' is stamped across your forehead
But ****, you're the most beautiful thing I've seen
And your body is the most beautiful poetry I've read

Its frightening as a thunderclap in a twilight forest and as deafening as the steady drip-drops in a cavern beyond light.
As choking as being tossed asunder with no life preserver in a raging sea, to be swallowed in ice and time.
As sought after as a ******'s pure kiss, by needy fervent lips and steady hands gripping all the more tighter.
   As feared as Death's embrace, if not more, because it says you are finally alone.
     It is that blissful white noise, that comes with a much sought after release with a patient and attentive lover.
       It is the steady dull ache in your bones, as the glistening blade caresses your skin.

      As it washes over me I breathe deep. I feel the fear, and the panic as to what if they find me this time, and will they ever.
     But as I let wave after wave crash down upon me, drip after drop hit the floor.
     As my fear gives way to bliss my lover could not bring, my panic drifts to calm from the songs the knife does sing.
...As comforting as floating in the ocean, as soft as a lovers sated kiss, as lost as a child's purity, and as beautiful as Lady Death's familiar arms.

   I cannot wait to seek the cool embrace once again...

I slipped into oblivion
And for a minute or two I held hands with death
What separated us was nothing but murky water; Hade's Lethe
My fingers reached up
Or was it down?
They intertwined with his
He bent his Cimmerian face through the separating waters
His night colored lips briefly rested against mine
But not for long enough
I loitered on his doorstep just long enough for my heartbeat to recede, my breath to become  shallow~
And then I awoke
I crashed up through the pressing weight of the deep, black water
Death's sweet embrace was broken

I thought I meant it,
thirty pills over three days
spaced out like the margins of
a book, double lined

shaken awake, I stir
like a cat roused from it's sleep,
stretching out the length of my body, arching my back, ready to attack

there is the needle, poking veins, collapsed veins that do not shed their blood easily, willingly

the tightness of a blood pressure band, constricting, heartbeat pulsing, ringing in my ears like titinus

the weight of near death, the long wait, internal quiet, external chaos

it breaks

no

(I didn't mean it.)

About my friend Andrew commiting suicide and the effects it had on me after.

Under                
The
Gun

Back bend
Bend back
Tear    crushed    rip

Under
The
Gun

Pressure building rising
mounting
rising higher
than ever before

I stood there alone wishing to be catapulted back into your stare
That 2 quarter sun
I stood on a snowy bridge hoping to be part of free light
Cutting shadows at right angles from tall buildings and mountains in various places between time zones

I stood frozen in winter storm staring down at your memory as if a leaf passed by me on the swift river current,

I stood gazing hard into that cold river water wishing to see past shadows

Wanting to penetrate illusions for one more chance to see your face laugh

Only You could see me, only You could feel me
Wanting to give up

Under
The
Gun
Under
The
Frozen
Tree

Her long branches sweeping the grass in 360 degrees
but still her protection could not save me

While I tried to fall asleep
Half dead by the thought of your death
7 degrees out
Back pressed hard into frozen pine needles,
Each one seemed to stab me with scattered puzzles
Of elusive memory I could hardly see
I lay there curled up as time brought your face to me in waves

And each piece of memory I could not stitch back together
With my mortal, clumsy hands

Under
The
Gun
Sweating bullets to find you as you were
Clean  clear   crisp
With music blasting from your room and us,
2 rebels trying to express that hard, undying rebellion swelling wide and contagious inside us.

It out grew the planet, soared into another galaxy and took over
Back bend
Bend back
Crushed
Tear
Rip
Under
The
Gun
Pressure building
Mounting
Rising
Climbing
Rising
Higher than ever before
Under
The
Gun
I lay there thinking how much I wanted to float away with that leaf that just went past me
Down the river to the sea
I lay there

Under
The
Gun

Remembering when our struggle to find beauty in our souls
Clashed like Iron swords against our own created demons,
When our own battle sent us into the underground
To find a voice of reason, to express our fiery rebellion into mics
That knew our rage.
Under
The
Gun
I lay there dreaming about that time in LA
When we were walking and you pretended to be crazy
“Watch This”      You said.  You put your hands on your head and took off, screaming to yourself,
Some kind of free rant screeching from the streets of the ******.
Your wild eyes piercing at the sidewalk
Your speedy gait so perfect while you plowed  past people as if you just escaped the loony bin.
Your black anarchy jacket patched with punk bands glowed under the decadent LA lights like exiled stars.
Everyone on Hollywood Boulevard ignored you, if I hadn’t known you I would have too.

You had me convinced you were just as insane as anyone else who I’ve seen do that.
You secretly became my hero in that moment.
You made me fall to my knees in laughter, the stars on the sidewalk sparkled, all my worries dissolved.

It was a gut wrenching bout with hilarity.
Needless to say hilarity kicked my ***
remnants of puzzles is all I have now
Every night I lay there dreaming, trying to see elusive pieces of memory floating far away at sea.

Under
The
Gun
I breathe
Waiting for a final bullet
To find me
Please   please   please
Send me to my friend
Floating            far away at sea…..