Saying “Hi”

I am on episode 4 of 13 Reasons Why. I cannot ingest more than two episodes in one sitting for obvious reasons. And even during the two episodes I watch , I pause sometimes. To think, about the male gaze for example or to imagine how it feels to be objectified as a woman- something […]

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Crash and Burn

you are a child watching a birdie flapping it’s wings in the throes of death and it is your hope I cannot stand! When it all boils down I will fold; i will always choose death over life Don’t you know? I never sought to heal Only to crash and burn

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Remember This

you must never cocoon me when i want to freefall nor cuff my wrists in place when i need both hands to write, to create, to strangle myself remember when the world claims that love holds fast and never let’s go remember this i am yours to love i am no one’s to keep  

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Death Wish

Sometimes I deliberately sabotage myself when I know deep down that I  do not want something. There’s a time I wasn’t exactly suicidal but I wasn’t high on life either; and each bus I would go into, travelling over long distances, I would not put on my seat belt. I would consciously remember that it is advisable to put it on but I […]

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9 Years Sober

I haven’t thought seriously of suicide for about 9 years. I did about a month ago; all the way to a sure proof way to get it over with. The tipping point was the death of a child I knew only by association. And I am careful to just be there for people without being […]

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To Live For Others

Prompt: 1984 You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.   **** White. Cushy white all around me makes me damn angry. The bed is cushy, the ground is cushy, the freaking walls are cushy; the damn jacket I’m in is fucking cushy! It’s like being a sharp spiky […]

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She called me up, yesterday; sweet and jovial as usual- then somewhat hesitant at the end- when she asked whether I was free to meet up for coffee. That she has a nagging issue she’d like to talk about.

And thinking of her well being, and wiling as ever, I said of course I was free.
So we meet for coffee. And she begins, “It’s about your nude photos online…I am concerned,” she says; and touching my hand affectionately the way one does when denying a child a cookie, she adds, “Perhaps you should tone it down…”

And I smile kindly and gently touch her lips with the tip of my finger, asking for a minute to say something myself.
And in that minute I asked her, “Do you know of my persistent depression and suicidal thoughts I have had for years?”
She nodded, sympathetically I think.
“…but you were never concerned enough to speak of that over coffee, were you?” I asked her.

We have not spoken since. I doubt we ever will.
Because you don’t need people in your life, who think you’re better off dead, than alive and naked and liberated.


Why Do We Still Live?

It’s been long since I thought of suicide, but after writing the above poem about a week ago (Viners? Anyone?) I realized that while years ago I promised myself to see all there is to life instead of just quitting it, suicide, has all along been a kill switch of sorts for me.

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