Maybe I'm foolish
To trust the excuse
"I'm only human"
Just defies the truth

© Matthew Harlovic

drugs don't take the pain away, sure,
but they make it more bearable

so when you're wide awake and you haven't fallen asleep
because your thoughts have gone too deep
you won't sit and weep
about life being so bleak
because the numbness will take over when your high is at its peak
and your questions will melt away
turning the whole world gray
you wish you would have stayed
you want the happy life that feels so unattainable
you want that perfect person who seems so unforgettable
but all you have is a drug
when all you need us a hug
but the high is what's getting you through
you feel like an addict and it's probably true
but you won't stop until your skin fades blue
because the world's a lonely place
so you fall into space
with whatever gets you highest to forget a lovers face
and an awful sad place
and sure, drugs don't rid you of the hurt
but they make some things feel a little less worse

s.s

If I were suicidal
I would want to see
  why people run blades over their arms
   is it
    like cutting, gliding, staining a shimmering
     white sheet?
      Does it let out the darkness in tiny
       ruby
        droplets?
       Or would it be pointless?
Would I be drowning in a bathtub of my own wrong choices?


If I were suicidal
            I would want to swing myself
into emptiness
            The feeling of tightness around my neck.
A faint crack
             in time.         To forget and rest.
Is that what it would feel like?
             A short drop
and spike
             in my heartbeat?
Or would I linger, floating? No quicker
             than the pendulum of regret come to
find me again.


If I were suicidal
I would want to know
how easy it would be to overdose.
1. the first, enough to give your body a
kick like a coffee in the mourning. But
thats about it
2. The second, slow progression. I'm thinking of
paracetamol by the way.
3. The third, not much will change
'till the
4.
5.
6.
7th? No.
8.
9.
10.
11th? More.
12.
13.
14.
15. th
      I looked it up
      anything
      past that is a lethal dose.
      But I regret this knowledge I now know
      because there is no ease in something
                     so slow   .



If I were suicidal
               I would jump                         on the tracks
       'Mile End' isn't far                         when you look at the
map       but that's one                          every 31 hours
             if you listen to                           statistics.
    I guess no one cares                          if you become an
                                      'inconvenience'.
If I feel like that anyway                     I suppose it doesn't matter.
But there's the thought                       of my loved ones
             seeing my body                        in that manner.

__

'If I were suicidal'
If this is the wish
how did we end up here
                contemplating this?

How do I push away the ones who love me the most?
And for what? A burning bush and a chat with a ghost?
Engrossed in the outermost region of thought.
I’ve seen quite a lot; believe it or not.
I sought therapy to discuss my problems
but my trust issues make it tough to solve them.
I must admit the moment we kissed
the world and its the chaos didn’t exist.

© Matthew Harlovic

I dealt death today.

I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.

I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their

Roaring grief.

They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.

And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.

And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.

But I took it with me today.

The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.

I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.

Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it

Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands

I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice

Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.

Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.

I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.

I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided

It’s raining on the South side and I’m outside
watching the flowers with a mouth wide open.
I was soaking up the rays just a few days ago
Now I’m asking myself where’d the sun go?

You stood on the corner in a yellow raincoat.
Weathering the storm and chasing rainbows.
Reclaim those colors, they suit you well.
Be true to yourself like Lulu Belle.

© Matthew Harlovic