A Float through Night Skies and Other Poems in Youth

A Contemplation on Suicide

I look through my window

Of my lonely, placid room

With the night, gleaming brightly

And the spots between the gloom

Cold, dark, and damp

Felt the air of the void

With blue and black tincture

Without distaste of fixture.

Right! Too small to live!

Give those that need it rather than me!

In aching moments would one be silent

A prison of one's own confinement

How would I choose my own demise?

By drowning? Bloated to bits?

By way of knife upon the wrists?

I could jump from a height; my shape would splat!

Or be eaten by a number of rabid cats.

I feel as though I'm sane

While others may say otherwise:

"Oh youth, young and fairly strung

With every breath of my moving lung

Could you condemn to hellish end –

When life, would give a hand to lend?

"Truly one so young and strong

Could fear the evil of the final breath

Truly one so young and strong

Could live with life for its giving wreath?

To tense yourself to the living life

To give yourself to forgiving life."

"I refuse, say I, for it is absurd

The life I've lived, is lifeless.

I have chosen a path, this path

And would carry on firmly, this path.

I have failed the Mother who birthed me!

I have failed the Father who pushed me!

I have failed the Sibling who loved me!

I have failed Myself who broke me!

"The anger; it strips and weakens my soul

A sadness wrings my crusty-conched ear

A want for wondrous longing fills

For purer and cleaner, shimmering soul.

The joy, minute of its meaningful lustre

A conglomerate feeling of an endless cluster,

With clinging to innocence,

And effervescent dissonance.

"And, with ending steps I'd take this,

Take this, this early final breath

However evil death may be

However, it hurts the most of me,

"I'd accept the inch of the totality of death

Compared to confine in the absurdity of life."