Monday, April 19, 2010

Sick Little Suicide.

This is a poem I wrote awhile ago for Poetry class.
It's quite depressing, and it's bad, but oh well. The stanza's that are only two lines are telling the story from a different point of view, I guess. I know, it's confusing. That's why it's in another color. It's really long. Sorry about that.

Anyway, enjoy! And feedback would be appreciated.

Sick Little Suicide –
That's the song that's going to play.

He's planned this for months,
Looking over it again, and again –
Making sure everything was perfect,
That everything would work.

The song playing over and over again.
The lyrics swimming through his house.

His mind has been living in an abyss –
He hasn't felt the warmth of happiness,
The security of love,
Since he was a little boy.

When his parents return home and hear the song,
They'll wonder why it's suddenly so cold.

The bite of the blade –
The warmth of the steel,
Has kept him alive so far.
But now life is becoming too much.

The stillness of the house will scare them –
The lyrics ringing through their ears like a bad pop song.

His friend's sudden abandonment,
The jokes and pranks –
All the names and rumors,
Paved the way towards his downfall.

After a weekend away,
That is what they'll come home to.

He knew it was his fault.
His messed up brain, his intense mood swings –
It all pushed everyone away.
Now they all say he's crazy.

But of course, they won't put two and two together.
They won't think the song and stillness mean the same thing.

Now he doesn't expect to be missed.
He's rejected by everyone –
Like the one rotten piece of fruit,
Everyone has just thrown him away.

They'll think everything is fine –
Their son is just listening to a song on max volume.

He's talked to people who have attempted suicide.
Some say they're thankful they survived,
Others have tried again many, many more times.
Nothing can change his mind.

When they go upstairs to check on him,
Then they'll see what has really become of their son.

He's imagined his parent's reaction,
Even dreamed about it,
But they've always ended the same.
They never even shed a tear of remorse.

They'll see their beloved son,
His soul long since gone from this Earth.

Always their faces were as cold as stone,
Their eyes glazing over from shock,
Like fog clouding a window –
But never any screams of loss for their song.

They'll be frozen in place.
Both from the chill of the house, and the sight of their son.

His plan has always been the same.
Always the same date,
Always the same song,
And always the same way to die.

Then his mother would scream –
Loud enough that it pierces all of the homes in their neighborhood.

The sun sneaks through the windows,
Warming the frozen floorboards.
It's a beautiful day out –
Despite his plan to end it all.

They don't know what to do,
There's so much blood.

He plans to hang himself,
After letting his tainted blood run.
A slow and painful mixture of both.
Making sure he gets what he deserves.

Should they cut him down first?
Or stop the bleeding?

He hangs the rope, grabs the blades –
Puts the song on repeat, loud enough for all to hear –

They move fast.
Cut him down, stop the bleeding, and call an ambulance.

The rope hangs inside the closet –
On a beam high enough to silence the breathing.
He steps onto the small step ladder, razors in hand –
He slips the makeshift noose around his neck.

He's so cold.
His skin almost as translucent as fish scales.

He takes one last look as his life –
He wants to so this.
He opens his skin, letting his veins breath.
The blood makes the razor slip from his fingers.

Someone could think he was sleeping soundly.
Until they noticed how still he actually was.

One last breathe.
His warm blood drips to the floor –
In two small, crimson puddles.
1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . JUMP!

The purple ring around his neck –
It was so dark and solid compared to his skin.

He heard his neck give a loud pop –
His breathe trapped in his throat.
He began to panic.
His hands frantically clawed at the rope.

His mother held him as she fell to the floor.
She didn't notice the blood under her.

This was stupid, he thought.
He could get over his troubles –
Ignore everything said about him.
He wanted to live.

His father fell next to them.
They let their tears fall on their son's still face.

Blood smeared on his neck, face, and shirt.
His vision started to blur –
The sound escaping from his ears.
He struggled to breathe as everything went black.

Their sobs drowned out by that song –
Forever ringing in their ears.

Two things he couldn't of planned,
The beam breaking –
And his parents returning home early.
They walked through the door just as he made a loud thud.

That's what could have happened –
If his plan wasn't ruined.

They run into his room –
His mother starts to cry and fell to his side.
His mother rips off the makeshift noose,
While his father calls an ambulance.

If he never would have panicked –
The beam would never have broken.

His father wraps scattered clothing on his son's wrists.
His mother tries to get him to breathe.
There is still a chance to save him –
The faint beating of his pulse hidden under his skin.

If his parents weren't worried about him –
They would never have come home early.

With the sudden realization of the open airways,
His eyes snap open –
His lungs begging for air.
His numb hands clawing all around him.

The things he couldn't control, he didn't plan –
Saved his life.

Taking short, hoarse breathes –
Unable to get the amount of air he needs –
He scoots through his own blood,
And backs into the back of his closet.

Chance had changed his plans –
While Fear changed his mind.

Still thinking he was suffocating –
He clamored for air, and grasped his neck.
His mother tried to calm him down –
But he still couldn't hear.

He knows now that life is worth living –
That everything should be okay.

The loss of blood made him dizzy.
The sight of his own blood, smeared on the floor –
Made him sick.
Taking more short, hoarse breathes, he slips into unconsciousness.

There are times when he wants to try again –
But then he remembers what death was like.

A scar now decorated his neck and arms.
The smooth, beautiful skin destroyed by the ugly tattoos.
But they're beautiful to him, a beautiful reminder –
That life doesn't stay bad for long.

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