Competition entry: Leave Behind-Suicide Note

There are few of you I will apologize to for leaving you behind, but the handful that I care about are simply not enough to keep me alive. The first 19 years were not so bad, but the 30 that have followed are filled with reasons, not excuses, but reason upon reason why I have contemplated suicide over and over. But I always fought against it because I believed that one day I would find the love that evaded me all of my life, that I would evade the poverty that has found me time and time again, and that my body would stop betraying me if I took better care of myself. Three strikes and you're out, or so they say... The ballgame is over, I've been shut out and the team went bankrupt before I could cash my paycheck. So what have I left to do in life but die? My eyesight diminished to a veil of darkness and my strength sucked from my muscles by a tiny little blood vessel in my brain that shut off the oxygen to brain cells that I took for granted and are now the first part of me to die. So what have I left to do but die?
And the powers that be are too powerful for me, to overcome, to persuade, to care about a wretched pauper like me. So now, without a home, without sustenance, without anyone who gives a shit enough to help, where can I go but the streets of starvation? And so I choose, before my body withers away in pain to a flapping lump of empty flesh and bones that are too weak to crawl out of the gutter and too blind to see where to go above the curb that fences me in, to let go of the hunger and the darkness through which I cannot see.

There were times a plenty when I had glimmers of hope, all since covered in the dust of my life. Times ticked by that made me feel hopeful that love would grace me with more than the hollow promises of bullshit and betrayal. The physical pain has been overcome by the anguish in my soul and the acceptance that my destiny is written in a book that does not open the gates of Heaven for me. So if Hell be my destiny, then I will go there of my own volition, not at the command of a God that doesn't give a fuck about me. I will go to Hell because I cannot stand the thought of spending eternity worshipping a ruthless deity who flung my living corpse into the fiery pit while I still breathed the air of hope, but for 30 years has been laced with sulfur.

I leave behind my poetry, for all it's worth, to all the eyes who will look upon it and begin a revolution against the almighty hypocrite who judges me for not allowing him to be my executioner. This is not suicide, this is murder for mercy, murder for revenge, but most of all, murder to steal away a soul that he could not afford own.

My body is meaningless, the only worth I have is in robbing God of the privilege to own a soul like mine. So to all those I leave behind in life, I cannot say I am sorry, I am not! I am on a quest to finally have a moment of control in my life and over my fate. To deny God the thing he desires more than anything, even if it is but a spec amongst billions of specs, I know it will hurt him and I know it will teach him a lesson that his cloudy mind can learn. And I will carry copies of my books to Hell with me, to make the flames burn hot enough that even God will feel the warmth from a soul that has wanted nothing more in life than to love, a soul that has sought him out, but has never found the slightest evidence of his existence. Perhaps the joke will be on me, perhaps there is no God at all. What a fool I will be when my death reveals the truth and I have died for nothing. But also, I have lived for nothing but to leave behind my poetry for others to see why they should love one another all the more. because one day, God or no God, life will meet death and there will be no more poetry...

 
JJ Poetryman  
 
 
 
Competition entry: Leave Behind-Suicide Note  
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/3478/