Father is dead
Father is dead
He put a gun
Up to his head
He took some pills
And went to bed
He slit his wrists
dropped as if lead
He jumped off
hung by his neck
These images
of fear and dread
Accosting me
as I slept
Exhausting me
they fill my head
Won't leave me be
Why would you want to leave?
I'm sorry to post such a dark piece. When I was ten my father committed suicide. We weren't living together at the time, as my mother had divorced him long before it had happened. I had simply found out about it the next day, and we packed up to go to his funeral. I've never understood why people say that they look peaceful in death. there is no peace, only pain. I've never known how he committed suicide, only that he did. that may have contributed to a recurring nightmare I have had ever since his death, in which I see him **** himself in his room over and over again in different ways.