They say a semicolon is used by an author
when they could’ve ended a sentence,
but chose not to.
In a way, we’re all authors,
writing our stories out as the days go on and on,
as they fade from as golden as a crown,
to as dark as a melanistic fawn.
You see, I’m the author of my life.
I had the choice to force a period to the end of a few sentences
as my short life moved forward on countless occasions,
to stop the clock from ticking,
the heart from beating,
but no.
Because my story is far from done.
I will forever keep adding semicolons until my pen runs out of ink,
or until I can’t find the courage to keep on writing.
I have more fights to keep fighting,
mountains to keep climbing,
a million lies to tell, and a million sorry’s to
bandage the hurt,
a thousand kisses to receive from strangers
and family and friends alike
until the word “suicide”
is nothing but a fading page in my life story.
And if I ever want to add a period,
such as when I’m when I’m feeling as blue
as the eyes of the boy who shattered my heart into pieces,
I’ll remember the semicolon,
and how my short little story doesn’t need to end just yet,
now does it?