One year since your passing,
I didn't know I still wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Unlike the other lives lost in years past,
Yours cut me deeper than the rest.
Like watching an older version of myself,
Carry out a wish I could never fully attempt,
It left me mortified, scared I may follow in your footsteps.
Months later, dreams came and went.
I'd often wake up, wondering why I'd envision myself
Jumping off the Eads Bridge.
I never thought I'd be having these thoughts again.
They say history repeats itself.
But I promise you: I won't repeat the same mistakes.
I won't become a part of the past.
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 6:02 AM UTC
One year since your passing,
I didn't know I still wasn't ready to say goodbye.
Unlike the other lives lost in years past,
Yours cut me deeper than the rest.
Like watching an older version of myself,
Carry out a wish I could never fully attempt,
It left me mortified, scared I may follow in your footsteps.
Months later, dreams came and went.
I'd often wake up, wondering why I'd envision myself
Jumping off the Eads Bridge.
I never thought I'd be having these thoughts again.
They say history repeats itself.
But I promise you: I won't repeat the same mistakes.
I won't become a part of the past.
My brother took his life on Sept. 8, 2019, two days before World Suicide Prevention Day. The title "Suicide September" is a cryptic reminder of the month my brother took his life and the year that followed the moment I realized I'm still not okay.
But I will be.
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