if you asked me to describe it
i’d say it’s like that lump in your throat
you get when you’re sad
that you can’t cough, swallow, or relieve
it’s name is suicide
and despite what the doctors say
i think it chokes you to death
the black smoke collects in your lungs
and the blankets and pillows smother you at night
until you panic, fighting to relive the attack
but you can’t. because it’s inside of you.
so you **** your self, to **** the pain
makes sense right?
it’s the only medication a doctor never prescribes
but that’s not the end of it
when the air is cleared from your lungs
and your chest sinks into the floor
all your loved ones begin to inhale the noxious fumes
they attract the massive black mass that fills the room
and they begin to die of the same disease that plagued you
and starts the process all over again
and they’ll have to fight, or become consumed