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.
I write to right the write-less, the unvoiced compendium of my experience. A
panoply of shadows between each line and behind the fumbled words miswritten
out of loyalty to the fiction I maintain. The letters which move beneath the page,
scintillating with suggestion, leaving their impression - a glimmer here, an echo
there; they are more honest than the fraught narrative that I deem fit to 'save'. I
write to right the write-less, to balance the unwieldy, to illuminate the intangible.
‘Every act of reading is an act of forgetting: the experience of reading is a palimpsest, in which each text partially covers those that came before.’ - James A. Secord, Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation
prickly bunches cherry blossoms wild strawberries the green bushes
walking into the most green place surrounding me a smell, the light someone invisible acting me polite acting me so, so nice that's nice of you, offering me tea. that's kind of you, that reminds me the time we shared it was all for you
reminding me something I have once experienced
even if you're no longer here with me, I'm crazy enough to see your silhouette every single day, right next to me.
Once, twice, three times too many. Sounds and shapes controlling the contrary. Darkness, blackened abyssal, all of the above- Tricks and deception- the leaving of love. Lusting after loosing; To find courage after fear.. Wishing and wanting those who once were dear. Of course you'll find your heart in pieces, Not just one's two's or threes. You'll find that a soul simply shatters in a muted ambiguity.