Suicidal Thoughts…..(2013)

letter.ajt

So dying is what causes you to see the endless loops of creation, that I have  managed to build from a blank slate, filled with echoes of forgiveness and remorseless, the fetal positioned angel, wanting to eat, the terrors of those who cannot fend for themselves, so should I even cry.  A depressive note, a melody, of desperation, should I? I employed this case, the silent case of victims shredding my back and mind for the heed of promise and hope. Pick yourself up, the pills are aiding your escape, in their eyes but it is much more visceral, much more visceral, a metal machine charging at your bones, your only pillars of conscious strength. SPRAWLING SPRAWLING FINGERS, all on my floor, wet feet, tend to tell lies of pain and bruises of attention. as you stated, as we stated this is the troubling state of personal uncertainty, trust, gain and patience. Tendons exposed, grabbed, gristle and tucked licking wounds of impatience and pangs of dying. The  gifted explore the space of time, searching for problems adequate of nourishment, remember the time, where we sat, and the day turned into dusk?  Dusk always mocked me, always wanting to be that beautiful, see things so clearly, exemplified, more blue. Responsible for an remorseful body and a relentless spirit, heavy weights. I gain the muscle to withstand every day, but the doubts shove me into depression my second, lover in life, his jovial partner angst and my vulnerable mind, a operation for utter despair. Imagining limits as treacherous stretches of contempt, and the freedom, that cloaked my sense of awareness is now closeted in a luscious white clouded landscape. When you must burn scorned verbs for a new life, a new attempt at preserving, your adoration, appreciation and prevent mental annihilation. I started this year, with scares, monsters, demons and sores, and I am ending it with heightened paranoia and deaf sincerity. It took a life being snatched from me, my life snatched away from others and the cry to keep going from foreign minds to help lift me here, as my Father crafted every step, preparation for my wing speared pedestal. I would rather those, who I once loved to stab their fears with the same hate, contempt they feel for me, it’s my doing to ignore the step backwards, the lustful eye and pained spirit of “what if’s” it is all but so clear why, I haven’t taken my own life yet, maybe because I cannot, fearful of punishment, not bearing the weight of the hurt, how I always wanted to, you know everything that preserves the charitable’s keen, fragility. Pleading and bleeding, for a sheer understanding of what is to be and what is to come, the fallacy, of a cerebral morsel on the plate of endangered consumption. Each move screams, progress or retraction of hope, I can see the future just as clear as the past, and I can see my demise just as clear as my success, Binary existence, binary optimism and learned ears of attentive shame. Perfection, in all areas, all angles, perfection is the main course, devouring mistakes with shrieks of disappointment, you know how, this liquor may solve this issue tonight and make it worse next week, or maybe how this lie cleans up my, saddened hour and rules with ruin for my day, the attention gathers more when you search for the “fix” in a substance, my life, the soliloquy, the melodic repetition are the contradictions of an often confused son, looking for the path, of rightness, looking, seeking, yeah I am seeking before, I climb in this hole and look out for the warriors who are stronger in corruption than I. These truths requesting of me to do better, so the chance of building stronger ties with myself may be in another time, without me here. I CONSIDERED TAKING MY OWN LIFE A MONTH AGO, and halfway into this note, but there is much to live for, and my chance to influence has only, just begun. (2013)

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