I'm staring up at the sky
from a hole six feet down
even while the rest assume
that I'm more than deceased
a harsh word that's still true
ideation has consumed
remnants of a loving life
now only found in living souls
return me to eternal rest
even while my life is hoaxed
sharing space with a world
then waiting for the dirt to fall
the shell resides while I weep
tears transparent on my skin
the drowning have a better chance
to survive beyond the flood
even while I sleep-walk
stagger upright for a time
evoking forms may confuse
when my desires finally fruit
if you chose to turn away
please put the marker on my grave
while I look up at the sky
just one last time as I pass.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190322.
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 8:03 PM UTC
I'm staring up at the sky
from a hole six feet down
even while the rest assume
that I'm more than deceased
a harsh word that's still true
ideation has consumed
remnants of a loving life
now only found in living souls
return me to eternal rest
even while my life is hoaxed
sharing space with a world
then waiting for the dirt to fall
the shell resides while I weep
tears transparent on my skin
the drowning have a better chance
to survive beyond the flood
even while I sleep-walk
stagger upright for a time
evoking forms may confuse
when my desires finally fruit
if you chose to turn away
please put the marker on my grave
while I look up at the sky
just one last time as I pass.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190322.
The poem “Staring Up” is a sad view of suicidal ideation. I had a conversation with a friend regarding the normative view of life. People assume that other people will, short of a terrible event, will show up from day-to-day. A person with ideation can never promise this outcome, even as the world expects the previous regularity.
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