Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
She comes home to an empty house
and lets herself in.
Some days, she's so lonely,
that she leaves a light on
when she leaves
so it looks like someone is waiting
for her to return.
But today, all is dark,
silent and empty,
like her heart.
Today the loneliness
wraps around her
like a cold, wet cloak,
clinging to her
making it hard to breathe
or move.
All of her usual tricks
to make herself feel better,
all her methods
to hide from the loneliness
seemed pointless.
As pointless
as her life.
It was time to play
the game.
After dinner,
a simple meal eaten in silence
she began.
She took a notepad and pencil,
on the first sheet
she wrote a blessing,
a reason to go on,
she tore the page off the pad,
crumpled it
and tossed the wadded page
into a large tote bag.
On each succeeding page
she wrote another blessing,
one per page
and each page wadded
and into the bag.
When her blessings ran dry
she continued on with her burdens,
her reasons for being depressed.
When she was done writing
she shook the bag,
mixed blessings and burdens
until she couldn't tell one from another.
Some nights the game ended here,
the simple act of writing,
listing all her blessings and burdens
made her feel better,
more alive.
Other nights, like this one
it continued.
One by one, she removed a page from the bag,
straightened it and read it.
This one said only
“the smell of flowers”
it was a blessing,
she placed it to her right.
The next one said
“I eat alone at work”.
A burden, to the left.
On and on
she goes through the pages,
blessings and burdens,
large ones and small.
Until she comes
to the last page,
with trembling hands
she flattens it,
turns it over
and reads.
“I lost five pounds”
A blessing,
not a big one, but that didn't matter.
The last page had been a blessing
and she had won the game.
She gathered the pages with her burdens,
threw them into the fireplace
and watched them burn.
Tonight she had won,
one day, she knew,
that last page would be a burden,
and she would watch her blessing and hope
go up in flames,
but not tonight.
As she drifted off to sleep
she wondered,
if anyone else she knew
played the suicide game.
More crap from my leaky mind.
Written by
Todd
66
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems