There was a full stop
hedged on a semi-colon,
but you just flew straight through both.
A train wreck thunderstorm, lightning bolt
smiles that were just a touch too bright.
One thing fell and then another, repeated,
endless cycles of your closed eyes, averted face,
until the pebbles that fell graduated to stones,
to boulders, and you turned and ran towards them.
Each step was a decision, each step another false idea,
another pathetic tragedy, trapped in viscous thought
as silence became a screaming, scorching pain after
you chose to become the enemy.
I was here, I was breathing, I was one step away
from you. But you did not reach for me, you did
not speak. You did not call. I left my phone on for you but
you did not call.
You stole secret to the edge and ripped yourself asunder.
You wrapped your fingers around our throats.
You decided to disappear your problems, to rest in pieces.
You resolved we should be the ones left to suffer,
standing perpetually in your shadow.
I still suffer. I am still here. I am still breathing, but it
is no thanks to you. Your mother cannot look at me anymore.
She says I remind her too much. She doesn't breathe,
she doesn't talk, she doesn't call.
She is the remnant you left behind, cast off like an old coat,
worn and weary and wasted.
Do you remember me? Do either of you remember me?
I cannot do it anymore.
Your legacy is made of salt and water
and all I want to do is forget.
Brother. Mother. Sister;
the family tree is dead.
There is always someone you can talk to and always someone who will be devastated by the loss of you. Do not break their hearts. Ask for help.
Call 116 123 (free UK helpline for Samaritans), talk to a doctor, talk to your friends, talk to your family, talk to a nice stranger, talk to someone like me who will be broken and angry when you're gone. Please.