Suicide Note

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

Not sure if the name is good, suggestions wanted.


Beyond this earth lies the tweets of drowning souls
The ache for proper judgment
The emotions thought abyssmal
And their howls amongst the keys
Are answered with a killer’s note

Written by mindless but the actions are taken by themselves
But for some reason no one ever catches the santa’s elf
They help make the gift of death
But the screen lets them prevail.
Then when our children, our friends, dangle on the rope between life and loss
We say “Why them? What did they do? I wish I was there to stop them!”
But do you even try to find who’s at fault?
You weren’t there and it’s only when their blood lurks the tub, when they suddenly wear long sleeves, or when their soul flutters away leaving their corpse as remains in the middle of your house that’s when you finally realize
Those assassin’s on the media are more than meets the eye, and you took them for granted. 
Now your whole existence is swallowing a thousand needles
Infected one’s at that because you’re rotting away on the inside for not saying the words, “I believe you.”

You could never place a single hug on them again. You could never convey any emotion to them  other than the pain you feel because it’s enough to reach their spirit.
Little did you know, some people say that your loved one’s death has its merits.
The time to mimic the comic book heroes has dawned upon us.

We do not possess the strength to lift buildings with the palms of our hands. We do not have the power to emit lasers from our eyes. What we do have is the ability to prevent another person from having to say goodbye. 

You see, santa’s elf is immune because they hide behind a screen. In reality, that’s an illusion, it’s what they supposedly think. Death walks in more disguises than a hollywood wardrobe, it comes in forms of strangers or the person you’d love to hold. And when you least expect it, a souls been sold. Looking back on it, you’re the one they secretly told.  And it’s not only a walking force, but it’s virtual too. If strength lies in numbers, then together, who knows what we could do?

I’ve had many nightmares. I’ve had trouble sleeping for hours on end.
But together we can be the hopeful glimmer, we’ll be an arm to lend
We’ll become the love behind the friend request.
Not the suicide note.

Submitted: April 05, 2016

© Copyright 2022 Roaming Words. All rights reserved.

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This made me tear up

Tue, April 5th, 2016 3:47am

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