Life Suspended

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 10, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 10, 2018



How do you explain death?

How do you get someone to understand, with words alone,

the anguish of having your world shattered in the blink of an eye?

Feeling like you've swallowed a stone.

The answer? You can't. You won't.

They either know the heartache, or they don't.


There's no explaining with mere words

the loss of a love and the hole that they leave.

They even admit, they can't imagine the pain,

what it's like to bury your closest friend,

what it's like to cry and grieve

so violently it brings you to your knees.


Your world becomes a barren wasteland

and you're just wandering through it,


waiting for the end.


It's not only the intense moments

of emotional pain you have to endure,

but all the moments in between,

the dull throbbing ache in your bones

that you don't always notice,

but never truly leaves.


Sometimes you don't get over the pain,

no one really does, I think.

You just learn to go on in spite of it,

and trick yourself into believing you're okay,

all the while watching your heart sink

six feet under,

knowing from now on

you're forever on the brink.


But one piece of advice I'll share,

some wisdom I've gleaned from this,

my tragic tale.

Don't ever go through your life

without telling your loved ones how you feel,

let them know how much they mean to you,

don't gloss over it, tell them, it's real.

For the most bitterly regretted words

are the ones that are left



Imagine you're standing at the edge of a cliff,

looking down, ready to leap.

You're breathing fast, your blood is racing,

your heart pounding,

you hold your breath to take the dive

and then…


You're stuck, suspended.


Stuck in that split second before the fall

forever frozen.

You can't turn back, it's too late for that.

You were ready to jump,

but as your feet left the ground, someone hit pause.

You're forced to change gears, swallow a lump

in your throat.

Now you're waiting in anticipation, your chest pounding,

expecting them to hit play at any second,

knowing they won't

but hoping anyway in spite of yourself.


That's what it feels like when someone dies,


waiting for the relief of the fall

when you can finally breathe again,

but it never comes,

it never ends.


Being a word unspoken feels much the same.

You have the words you wanted to say

and you were finally ready to say them.

But in the blink of an eye

the person you wanted to say them to is gone,

and you're left choking on your own breath,

biting your tongue

on a sentence that still wants to be said,

even though there's no one left

to listen.


Dying isn't reaching the end of a movie,

the end of a book, a chapter, a song...

It's stopping in the middle and being robbed

of the chance to know

what was supposed to come next.

Unsatisfied and incomplete...

© Copyright 2018 Abigail S.. All rights reserved.

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