deepundergroundpoetry.com

on caskets & exits

 



i understand why it happens
speaking from
a guilty as charged perspective;

i can't recall
the last time my mind
didn't picture
my body as a casket
polished
with fancy handles;
how it'd
be the only peaceful moment
in my life,

i couldn't say
how many thoughts such as these
go through
my mind everyday
they bust in,
sit down on my furniture,
put their feet up,
ask me
if i'm putting the kettle on
& tell me
they won't take
long

they lie—

one time
they took too long
i became desperate

that meant
failing to swing
from a tree
using worn
rope

in broad
daylight,


another time
they took too long
i found myself
past yellow lines

at north
greenwich station
counting minutes
waiting for a tube
to arrive

only to be
pulled back
as rails came
screaming,

another time
they took too long
daylight turned
pitch black

i ate my
prescription
like a tube of
smarties

nobody
likes fighting
a grey henry
hoover stuck
inside their
gob,

i understand why it happens
speaking from
a guilty as charged perspective;

i get why people
write it out
bleeding on
a fresh sheet

i'll raise my hand
every damn time
if i have to

because

it was never
about being
right or wrong

it's just
better than
quitting on
yourself,

i just consider
myself one of the lucky ones
who learnt
like everything else
this is all
temporary

even if
i find myself
writing it
out.




Written by _feral
Published
Author's Note
wrote this during mental health awareness week
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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