The suicide

Look at the moon
The way we suicided
It wasn’t romantic
Or dead poetic
It was fires cut short
Not even burned at both ends
It was Saturday nights
That should have never ended
Look at how we struggled against the rope
Look at how we knew all the words
To our favorite poets
But forgot the simple
Sunday morning
With you
Eggs and bacon
Bloody Mary for the hangover
I am here
Not just for
To help see you through
Not just to get through
I want to see you win
You are loved
You are love
You are living
And living things may fall
But they also grow
And they takeover
They break through
They overcome
It may always be here
Like the darkness between stars
Let this be part of your bigger portrait
Your sun is burning
And you can overcome

One thought on “The suicide

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s