A Plea Against Suicide

Good afternoon, readers. I hope you’re prepared for a more serious post. At work today, I was told an extremely heartbreaking story about someone’s friend who just killed herself, and no one knew she had any unhappiness in her life. I know it’s not suicide awareness month, and I know this is something that gets spread around a lot, but it really can’t be stressed enough. Please talk to someone if you’re feeling depressed, hurt, lost. Please find that one person who you can bear your soul to. It cannot only save your life but also somebody else’s.

I know it’s hard. I know you want to seem happy and perfect because that’s what social media wants. And it’s so easy to put on a mask. I know it feels good to hide behind that mask because you’re afraid to even look at yourself in the mirror because you don’t know who you are anymore. I know how much effort it takes to pretend like you have everything going right in your life, and by the end of the day, you’re so exhausted you dread the next day. And the day after that. And every day after. I know how hard it is to be completely vulnerable with someone because you’re afraid of how they’ll look at you when you’re done explaining yourself.

I know it’s hard. I know you don’t want to talk to someone because you’re afraid you’ll only burden them with your problems. Let me tell you. Out of all the people I’ve talked to in my life, there’s always been at least one person who’s never pushed me away because of my feelings. It wasn’t always the person who I thought it would be, but there is always someone. Because you’ll be more of a burden to them once you’re gone. Because they will blame themselves for your death. They’ll wonder why they couldn’t see your sorrow and torture themselves with what they could’ve done and what could’ve been.

I know you want to say it doesn’t matter because the sun will still rise, and the stars will still shine. Maybe they will. But the ones who loved you will never look at them the same way again because their eyes will be red and dry from the amount of crying they’ll never be over. I know you want to tell yourself no one cares because no one understands. When in all reality, they have no idea because you’re pushing them away so they’ll be happy. I know the demons taunt you every waking moment of your day. I know the darkness spins inviting lies to join it.

I know it’s hard. I know you think things will be better for everyone if you’re gone. But things will only be worse. Heaven may have another angel, but Earth will be without one, and we need all the angels we can get on this rock. I know it sounds easy just to rid this place of yourself. I know you think it’s convenient. But it’s not. No matter what you think, you’ll be robbing at least one person of someone they love. You’ll be robbing yourself of a chance for an amazing life where you could help someone who’s going through the exact same thing you are now.

Humans aren’t as unique as we think. We all suffer from the same type of things; we just need to reach out to someone. To anyone. Please reach out. Find that one person you know you can trust and ask them for a few minutes of their time. They will give it to you. Someone will be there. You’re not alone with your feelings and thoughts. You’re never alone.

I know it’s hard. I really do. I’ve been through the same things. I’ve been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I’ve been on the meds. I’ve spent years crying myself to sleep every night. I’ve cut myself. I held knives close to my heart. I’ve wrapped my fingers around the handle of a gun. I’ve prepared myself to run my vehicle off the road and into a body of water. I’ve sat with a concoction of pills. I know what’s it’s like because I’ve been there.

And I didn’t magically get better. I didn’t correct myself overnight. It does take time. But I promise you, it does get better. I get to see that sun rise every morning with my own eyes. I get to see the stars shine even through the blackest night. It takes time. It takes patience and understanding with yourself. Every time I’m in a lowest of lows, I tell myself I don’t want anyone to feel the way I feel. That if anyone feels this way, all I want to do is help them. Be there for them, be a shoulder to cry on, just be a listener. Because all we need sometimes is for someone to listen. We need that reassurance we’re not alone. You’re not alone. I promise you; you’re not alone. So please.

Please find someone who you can talk to. Even if it’s just one person. Forget the masks. Forget this idea you need to portray yourself as perfect. Forget everything except yourself. Take care of yourself. Don’t let you be beaten by you. Find someone. And live.

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Bones of Saints

A long forgotten marker
From a less memorable time
Weathered by sun and storm
Stone covered in lichen
The symbol barely visible
None know of the secrets beneath
A labyrinth tomb kept away
Hidden from prying eyes
Safe from hands of theft
Though no riches lie below
Only the broken remains of souls
Yellowed bones with chips and marks
Lifeless forms etched with runes
Their story never to be told
Of the day the world collectively bled
Of the day ancient evil awoke
Water and sky became crimson
And no mortal dared stopping it
None except a courageous few
They gathered from around the globe
Uniting as brothers under a common banner
It took the lives of every one
To send the evil asunder
A mutual defeat of both sides
Darkness dragging the men underground
So their legend could never live on
So their names could never be praised
To this day no one can fathom
What transpired so long ago
But the earth will always remember
What was done to save it
That’s why if forever preserves
These deserving bones of saints

The Fall

The water thundered over the side of the cliff, tumbling down below. The mist roiled skyward. But such was the ways of waterfalls. A peaceful yet violent force of nature.

She stood atop the falls, surveying the land below. It had taken her three hours to climb to the precipice, and it had been worth every second. The serene atmosphere gave her plenty of time to reflect. And nothing in her mind had changed.

Recently, it had occurred to her what life really meant. How futile human existence was. Their purpose was to make the world a better place. And how miserable they failed. That’s why their lives were less than a hundred years. Why would they live longer lives? They were only selfish beings who honestly deserved less.

It was why she climbed to the falls. Her life had been nothing but a selfish disaster. A selfish disappointment. She would make the world a better place by returning her body to fertilize the earth. It had been something that filled her with fear, but no more. It was something she came to terms with. Something she wanted.

Her eyes closed as the waterfall breeze mingled the spray with hair. It was time. Holding out her arms, she leaned forward. Felt the rush of the wind against her face. Tingling every nerve.

Ten.

She had no regrets.

Nine.

No fear.

Eight.

No more reason to live.

Seven.

This was her wish.

Six.

Her peace.

Five.

Her freedom.

Four.

She smiled.

Three.

No one would ever see her again.

Two.

Her body hit the water.

One….

My Golden Eagle

He was wild
Completely untamable
Wanting to go in all directions
Going in every direction
Back and forth
Never tiring
Blazing his own trails
Bowing not to another
Friend only to earth and sky
Riding forever on the wind
Tied only by gravity
Barely touching ground
No permanent name
No history
Freedom at its best
Passion for life
Facing every fear
Laughing at every foe
Defying destiny
A phantom
A drifter
A loner
An extraordinary man
One I loved to refer to as
My Golden Eagle

The Butterfly and the Rose (Poem)

The butterfly and the rose
How they thrive
Only God knows
Travelling across Earth
Mountains high and valleys low
To the reaches of realms
They will go
The gardens can’t stop them
Nor rain nor drought nor snow
Nor to the rushing wind
Will they bow
Who will dare tame
The butterfly and the rose
Not even pen and paper
Can lock them in prose
Defiant and high
Will their banner billow
Forever living on
Despite the tries of foes
But their love for family
Will always grow
However you view them
You must know
All this is true of
The butterfly and the rose

Forgiveness

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I sat on my bedroom floor, curled up in a corner. Everything falling apart. Tears flooded my face. I was a bad person. I didn’t deserve to be on this Earth anymore. My knuckles turned white around the knife. I would be doing the world a favor if I left. I caused more harm than good by being here. No one would miss me. Everyone would be better off without me.

Throwing my head back into the wall, my chest rose and fell with hard sobs. My body trembled. I looked down at the knife in my hand. It wouldn’t go anywhere. But I needed to go. What purpose did I have on this planet? After all the bad things I’ve done…how could anyone forgive me? Everyone simply acted like they loved me. Nobody needed me. Nobody wanted me.

I didn’t even want myself. I hated me. And if I hated me, certainly everyone else did. I was so pathetic, I couldn’t even make myself bleed. There was no controlling the snot mingling with tears on my face. I was a mess. Had always been a mess. I screwed up everything. Never made anyone happy. Never let myself be happy. All I did was ruin everything. I needed to go.

But I never could go. I watched the knife shake in my hand for an hour. It never went anywhere. It stayed in my sweaty grasp. My depressed sobbing had turned into cries of anger. Why couldn’t I die? Why did I need to live? What purpose did I have other than torturing myself? Could I wish myself away? Could I will myself to death? The knife wasn’t doing me any good. My body went limp from exhaustion. What was I even doing here?

Then I heard something other than the voices in my head. I heard soft crying. I blinked back pooled tears. On the other side of my room was a little girl. Her knees up to her chin, head in her arms. She looked familiar to me. Behind her played blurry, one-sided and biased events. My wall had become a projection screen for her past. Though her past wasn’t quite clear. Sniffing, I rose.

“Don’t you see?” she screamed. “Don’t you see how bad of a person I am?” The events slowly became clearer. “Dont’ you see what I’ve done? I’m a bad person. Nobody loves me. How can anybody love me?”

I swallowed. Beginning to understand. Those events…I remembered them as clear as day. Her past was mine. Everything I had done. Everything that caused me so much anxiety. Everything I couldn’t forgive myself for. All the reasons why I hated myself. My eyes darted over the various incidents. Brimming with tears again until they overflowed. “Can’t you see how bad I am?” she pressed. “I’m a terrible person.”

Dropping down next to her, I held her in my arms. Buried my head in hers. My heart ached for this little girl who carried so much weight. “No…” I barely managed talking through my crying. Squeezed her tighter. “All of those things…just because you did something wrong doesn’t make you a bad person.” I choked. “You’re not evil. You are loved. I love you. And even if nobody else does, I-I…forgive you. I forgive you for the things you’ve done.”

Her head lifted, glistening eyes meeting mine. “Then you have forgiven yourself.” I blinked. “What?” But I studied her. That was why she looked familiar. She was me. The part of my soul I kept buried in guilt and shame. I couldn’t stop crying. It was all sinking in. She smiled. “I am you, and you have forgiven me. You have finally forgiven yourself. You no longer need to carry the hatred for yourself.”

She radiated warmth while I sat in stunned silence. Tears stopped raining down. My heart no longer hurt, and my soul felt lighter. What happened? I looked at the knife on the floor. No longer wishing to take my own life. I blinked again. It had been years of not letting go. And…it was this hard but also this easy all along? She suddenly burst into thousands of glowing particles and absorbed into me. “I forgive you,” she whispered, “I love you. You have forgiven yourself. You have set yourself free.” I whispered back, “I am free.”

Haiku Compilation VI

Warmth of morning sun
As I pace and ponder words
Penning down haikus

Tiny sized stories
Not always meaning to rhyme
The depth in poems

Crisp pages turning
Living stories in my head
Books are my best friends

Wind brushing tree leaves
Flames reaching ever higher
Camping under stars

Liquid hot to taste
Warm sensation fills me whole
Coffee in my mug

Flowers bringing joy
Planting away stress and strife
Garden soothes the mind

Drops on the glass pane
Moist earth permeates the air
Fresh dew gracing grass

Dig for sand treasures
Message in a clear bottle
A lost cry for help