Suicide is a woman
I happen to know

She has fled
With many lovers,

Some people I knew,
And others I didn’t

She plays with my
Hair like guitar strings

She gently runs her
Hand down my face

Most nights with her
Are like a daydream

Whispering sweet nothings
Into the lovely abyss

I call my own mind
But it is not mine

She has me
No
She had me

I am not the same person I was
And I hope I am never him again.