Father is dead Father is dead He put a gun Up to his head He took some pills And went to bed He slit his wrists dropped as if lead He jumped off hung by his neck
These images of fear and dread Accosting me as I slept Exhausting me they fill my head Won't leave me be Why would you want to leave?
I'm sorry to post such a dark piece. When I was ten my father committed suicide. We weren't living together at the time, as my mother had divorced him long before it had happened. I had simply found out about it the next day, and we packed up to go to his funeral. I've never understood why people say that they look peaceful in death. there is no peace, only pain. I've never known how he committed suicide, only that he did. that may have contributed to a recurring nightmare I have had ever since his death, in which I see him **** himself in his room over and over again in different ways.