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Suicide isn't a Thank You - Collaboration Work
Suicide isn't a Thank You
SachikoMochiko & SinisterPotatoe (Jack)
“Jack!” my heart falls into a deep, dark, cold abyss as saltwater crystals rush like a waterfall down my cheeks. He ended it. Officers held me back, refraining me from attending his bloody body…his soul has left.
Three months’ post-Jack’s departure, I scuffle his belongings. The old apartment was dewy and rusty at the same time. My calloused fingertips hover past a dusty paper. Hidden. Hidden behind his mirror. I carefully unfold the dust-magnet flat. A poem:
From the hollow pit of my emotions, I’ve reached the end
The end, that determines my fate…
I’ve reached the end, my only friend
The end, that leaves me bent
=
Around the bend, regards have been sent
The very bend left the very dent
As I fend off the reality…I’m bent
=
O’ since the blood drips to my fingertips
We struggle…I struggle
I know it’s hard, we’ve come so far, but everything will eventually be over
Like a story…all stories end, eh?
So, I’ll be the one to end it
=
What goes up must come down…it’s the law
But the law isn’t any determinant…
We protect the law, right?
==
Shhh…
--
Before my empty shell is found dead
Before my empty shell, where my soul left, morphs back to the Earth…where I belong
I promise not to frown
If you’re still in town, I beg you visit my grave,
but I’m sorry my sadness wasn’t a faze
And if your soul is more than grazed by my departure
Know that through all the torture and the pain,
Through all the blood, the tears and the wails…
you were the one who kept me sane
==
Surely, this is an excuse
Well, my only friend…
I am mistaken, I am not bent
I am not dented
But I am broken…unable to function anymore,
in this beautifully rotten world
=
Sunshine or rain, I beg you to refrain from crying,
because at least, I am healed through death
I’m biding my holy time, with every new rhyme it’s a struggle. I can’t smuggle happiness back into my life…
It’s against the law…the laws that I wrote inside my young, naïve mind
The very laws that kept me in this cage
With all this baggage and luggage, I act like I’m at peace
At heart, I’m being weighed down by myself
I pound at the barrier between me and others, my prison,
I’m chained and bound, pulled down, buried in the mud, I was forgotten
But I’ve risen above it
I love it, life, and every knife in the back has brought me a crack in the wall,
however small, someday I’ll break free
I’ve brought forth emotions that have sought to honor the ones who never run from my side
I don’t abide by reasons to cry unless they are tears of joy or a new way to get stronger
When I rot, when my body is nothing but issue
a goner north of my goals, dead in my hole at least I’ll know my soul was honorable
And if your sad, don’t be
I know you think suicide isn’t a thank you, but it’s a sign of escape
Escape from this prison that binds me…
Twists me…
Bends me…
Breaks me…
Have faith, my honors always been a stake, don’t worry, fake words, tongues that lie will eventually break
===
After all, what goes up must come down
And when that happens you will no longer frown, stick around and keep your mouth shut until you have the right to speak
Because suicide may kill me, and weak freaks are fodder for lies, and propaganda flies its flag until the target dies, but words won’t kill the truth
And even though I’ll never know it, you will, write the story, and don’t worry about me
I’m already free
-Jack
Once again, saltwater crystals flow down my cheeks. By not like a harsh waterfall, but like little fairy steps, tickling down my sullen flesh.
“May your soul be free”
This is an extended version of SinisterPotatoes (Jack) original poem Suicide isn't a Thank You. See it here: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/SinisterPotatoe/1972625/
Hope you like it! (especially you sir, SinisterPotatoe (Jack))
