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Anna Mink Apr 9
small town boy got the gallows in eye //
distracts his loneself with a lullaby //
it was a strange day
and he tried to pray //
dont worry about where to draw the line
as itll be i //

~ A.M, F.H.
Written & Published 9th of April 2021.
The beginning to an original ****** song in the format in which I write.
Knots tied like boy scouts
Wrapped in a burlap sack
Withering hope and flames going out
Slithering rope and my neck snapped
Kenneth Gray Nov 2020
Hello suicide!
Its been awhile
Remember me?
Yer ol' buddy Kyle?
I need your assistance
To escape from this trial
Forgive me friend
If I'm unable to smile

Ah, yes! Kyle, of course!
Forgive me bud
If my voice does sound hoarse

I've been hanging around
Don't you see?
I'm glad you've swung by
To console in me
For my first recommendation
Is hanging
Yes, in fact
This is my plea
Might I suggest a rafter
Or perhaps a nice tree?
This ones on the house
Yeah, this one is free

Ah, yes! A hanging
Indeed!
But if I were to do that
A rope I would need
Not only that
But I could be rescued
And freed
Do you have another?
Please forgive me suicide
Forgive me for my greed
What else can I do?
Please consider my plead!

Ah, yes! I can do one more
But I'm growing tired and weak
And my neck is still sore

Take a handful of pills
And overdose
This I know you've tried
And you came really close
But you can't be easily rescued
And you don't need a rope
Do it! Destroy your dreams!
And trample your hopes!

Excellent! This one sounds great
For sure!
I do have a decease
And pills might be the cure
But what if I live
What if my body endures?
But this option has potential
And it has great allure
I'll consider this option
To you, I ensure

Well, well, well!
Look what we have here!
Looks like I'm successful
As if a death is near
Theree no need to panic
Theres no need to fear
However, I do need payment
So start paying in tears!
Now RIP my good friend
Its been fun mate, cheers!
I've dealt with suicidal thoughts alot in my life. So this is kind of like the dialogue I have with it. As if we know each other and were friends.
Rosmary Penn Nov 2020
fear,
but a string

the strand drawn from the
depths of our souls,
composed of insecurity,
fragility,
anguish

it was the string from which I hung
Sophia Sep 2020
"Let's play hide and seek."
She said,
"You count and i'll hide."
So I counted to ten
And off I ran
In search of my little friend
Maybe behind the wall?
Or inside the slide?
My little friend
Sure knows how to hide.
I scratched my head,
And thought again,
Where is my little friend?
Under the big tree!
That's where she must be.
Surely, there I found
Under the tree without a sound
There she floated
High above the ground.
A necklace of pain
Hugging her throat.
What happened to my little friend?
The girl I used to know.
The happy girl she disguised to be.
Why, my little friend?
Why have you hidden your pain from me?
All her life was but a game.
A tormented game of
Hide and Go Seek.
She searched and searched
But she never found herself.
Now lost she will be
For all eternity.
Oh, my little friend,
If only I would have known!
You would not have been alone.
I would have searched,
And you would have been found.
Now I watch
As my little friend
Is lowered to the ground.
Lane O Aug 2020
Even when I unravel,
hope still hangs on by a
t
  h
      r
          e
              a
                   d
Shin Aug 2020
Candlelight douses the dust in amber.
Wallpaper peeling, gathered at your feet.
In your left hand rests a picture of her.
In your right, your cowardly retreat.

Hemp fibers laced gently around your arm.
Cautiously you unwind this man-made snake.
Tossed to a beam in this forgotten farm,
you've found the home of your final mistake.

Stepping on stage, the warmth ensnares your neck.
Tied taut, the noose calls you as an old friend.
You cry now, lost within this dreary wreck.
You pray to dead gods. You have found the end.

Your feet meet air. With a gasp you are gone.
A life wasted, another soul withdrawn.
note: This poem is not a cry for help. I am not currently suicidal. It is merely a window into what that moment on the cusp can feel like.
Poetic T Jun 2020
The pretty birds perching,
          I stared chalky .

I was just a pendant waiting
                             to be worn.

But I just sway here loosely,
          gravity is paused till
I intend to collapse into
                           breathless

Nothingness..

But the birds are my friends,
           perching here keeping
me company, I feed them...

Not of wanting,
                                but of necessity.

                                     I stare blankly,
I've nothing left to give..

But the flock, they keep me company..
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