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Thoughts on suicide, mature content. |
You only conquer your suicidal thoughts When you’re dead. It’s only when you no longer breathe That you don’t have a shit day and Think about how you could fall the Right way to bust your skull on the Cement block before your next presentation Because the breathing exercises aren’t helping And your therapist Gina won’t pick up your calls. It’s only when you are six feet under That you don’t have a panic attack that Turns into deadly and destructive problem Solving that makes overdosing look okay Because hey, at least you won’t have to Look at Sara’s wedding invitation that came In the mail last week with your old beau Paul. It’s only when people cry at your funeral That you don’t remember that life Could and would and will go ticking on And the birds won’t stop migrating And Tom from marketing will forget about That one flirty meeting on October 12th. It’s only when you sit in Judgement’s waiting room That you don’t feel the need to starve yourself Even though as you walked to the lunch room You felt your cheeks jiggle and your thighs Are chafing and you didn’t put baby powder In your purse because your mother sent you Dating tips for the third time this month. It’s only when the Lord is reading off your crimes That you don’t feel the urge to push the Least used elevator button to the rooftop And plummet as you flip off the café that Gave you a hot white chocolate mocha instead Of the iced one you ordered and then said they Would have to charge you more to change The damn thing even though it was their mistake In the first place! You only stop thinking about killing yourself Once you have lived to see yourself Marry Chris, have two daughters, experiment With a pot cookie, skip out on paying for a couple meals, Paint the toes of every newborn grandchild, Forget the names of the nurses who wash your Sheets, and finally fade with the triumph That no suicide notes ever had to be found. |