I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come

If I were suicidal
I would want to see
  why people run blades over their arms
   is it
    like cutting, gliding, staining a shimmering
     white sheet?
      Does it let out the darkness in tiny
       ruby
        droplets?
       Or would it be pointless?
Would I be drowning in a bathtub of my own wrong choices?


If I were suicidal
            I would want to swing myself
into emptiness
            The feeling of tightness around my neck.
A faint crack
             in time.         To forget and rest.
Is that what it would feel like?
             A short drop
and spike
             in my heartbeat?
Or would I linger, floating? No quicker
             than the pendulum of regret come to
find me again.


If I were suicidal
I would want to know
how easy it would be to overdose.
1. the first, enough to give your body a
kick like a coffee in the mourning. But
thats about it
2. The second, slow progression. I'm thinking of
paracetamol by the way.
3. The third, not much will change
'till the
4.
5.
6.
7th? No.
8.
9.
10.
11th? More.
12.
13.
14.
15. th
      I looked it up
      anything
      past that is a lethal dose.
      But I regret this knowledge I now know
      because there is no ease in something
                     so slow   .



If I were suicidal
               I would jump                         on the tracks
       'Mile End' isn't far                         when you look at the
map       but that's one                          every 31 hours
             if you listen to                           statistics.
    I guess no one cares                          if you become an
                                      'inconvenience'.
If I feel like that anyway                     I suppose it doesn't matter.
But there's the thought                       of my loved ones
             seeing my body                        in that manner.

__

'If I were suicidal'
If this is the wish
how did we end up here
                contemplating this?

Tastes good, doesn't it?
The fire burns your throat
as you chug a shot down.
The taste ain't sweet,
but the feeling sure is.
The drunker you get,
the higher you float.

"Can life always feel this good?"
The answer's no,
but you refuse to accept it.