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Suicide isn't a Thank You - Collaboration Work

Suicide isn't a Thank You

 

SachikoMochiko & SinisterPotatoe (Jack)

 

“Jack!” my heart falls into a deep, dark, cold abyss as saltwater crystals rush like a waterfall down my cheeks. He ended it. Officers held me back, refraining me from attending his bloody body…his soul has left.

 

Three months’ post-Jack’s departure, I scuffle his belongings. The old apartment was dewy and rusty at the same time. My calloused fingertips hover past a dusty paper. Hidden. Hidden behind his mirror. I carefully unfold the dust-magnet flat. A poem:

 

From the hollow pit of my emotions, I’ve reached the end

 

The end, that determines my fate…

 

I’ve reached the end, my only friend

 

The end, that leaves me bent

=

 

Around the bend, regards have been sent

 

The very bend left the very dent

 

As I fend off the reality…I’m bent

 

=

 

O’ since the blood drips to my fingertips

 

We struggle…I struggle

 

I know it’s hard, we’ve come so far, but everything will eventually be over

 

Like a story…all stories end, eh?

 

So, I’ll be the one to end it

 

=

 

What goes up must come down…it’s the law

 

But the law isn’t any determinant…

 

We protect the law, right?

 

==

 

Shhh…

--

 

Before my empty shell is found dead

 

Before my empty shell, where my soul left, morphs back to the Earth…where I belong

 

 I promise not to frown

 

 If you’re still in town, I beg you visit my grave,

 

 but I’m sorry my sadness wasn’t a faze

 

And if your soul is more than grazed by my departure

 

Know that through all the torture and the pain,

 

Through all the blood, the tears and the wails…

 

 you were the one who kept me sane

 

==

 

Surely, this is an excuse

 

Well, my only friend…

 

I am mistaken, I am not bent

 

I am not dented

 

But I am broken…unable to function anymore,

 

in this beautifully rotten world

 

=

 

Sunshine or rain, I beg you to refrain from crying,

 

 because at least, I am healed through death

 

I’m biding my holy time, with every new rhyme it’s a struggle. I can’t smuggle happiness back into my life…

 

It’s against the law…the laws that I wrote inside my young, naïve mind

 

The very laws that kept me in this cage

 

With all this baggage and luggage, I act like I’m at peace

 

At heart, I’m being weighed down by myself

 

I pound at the barrier between me and others, my prison,

 

I’m chained and bound, pulled down, buried in the mud, I was forgotten

 

But I’ve risen above it

 

I love it, life, and every knife in the back has brought me a crack in the wall,

 

however small, someday I’ll break free

 

I’ve brought forth emotions that have sought to honor the ones who never run from my side

 

I don’t abide by reasons to cry unless they are tears of joy or a new way to get stronger

 

When I rot, when my body is nothing but issue

 

a goner north of my goals, dead in my hole at least I’ll know my soul was honorable

 

And if your sad, don’t be

 

I know you think suicide isn’t a thank you, but it’s a sign of escape

 

Escape from this prison that binds me…

 

Twists me…

 

Bends me…

 

Breaks me…

 

Have faith, my honors always been a stake, don’t worry, fake words, tongues that lie will eventually break

 

===

After all, what goes up must come down

 

 

And when that happens you will no longer frown, stick around and keep your mouth shut until you have the right to speak

 

Because suicide may kill me, and weak freaks are fodder for lies, and propaganda flies its flag until the target dies, but words won’t kill the truth

 

And even though I’ll never know it, you will, write the story, and don’t worry about me

 

I’m already free

 

-Jack

 

Once again, saltwater crystals flow down my cheeks. By not like a harsh waterfall, but like little fairy steps, tickling down my sullen flesh.

 

“May your soul be free”

 

 

 

 

This is an extended version of SinisterPotatoes (Jack) original poem Suicide isn't a Thank You. See it here: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/SinisterPotatoe/1972625/

Hope you like it! (especially you sir, SinisterPotatoe (Jack))

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is an extended version of SinisterPotatoes (Jack) original poem Suicide isn't a Thank You. See it here: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/SinisterPotatoe/1972625/
Hope you like it! (especially you sir, SinisterPotatoe (Jack))

Just added a little tang to it...that's all - SachikoMochiko


How I can improve: Quote from JayG


• “Jack!” my heart falls into a deep, dark, cold abyss as saltwater crystals rush like a waterfall down my cheeks. He ended it. Officers held me back, refraining me from attending his bloody body…his soul has left. 

This has emotional impact when you read it because you know who "Jack" is. You know who's speaking, who's bloody, and what they are to each other. You know where they are in time and space, and what's going on.

In short, you supply the emotion content as you read, because the words act as pointers to images, information, memories and more, all stored in your mind.

But the reader has only what the words suggest to them, based on the words they've read to any given point. So for them, your words act as pointers to images, information, memories and more, all stored in YOUR mind.

You either need to point to triggers in the reader's mind, or include them in the narrative.

Because of that missing context, when you reach the poem section, it's someone we know nothing about lamenting a situation that's unknown.

The voice "telling" this to the reader knows what's going on because they have context. You know for the same reason. The writer of the poem—that bloody unknown who's quoted knows. Even the officers holding this person of unknown age, gender, and situation back know. But you wrote this for the reader.Shouldn't they know, too? How can it hold emotional content for that reader if they don't view the events as you do?

In writing, context isn't just important, it's the key to reader involvement, and the reason that we need to edit from the reader's seat, not based on our intent. When we release our words, our intent, and everything about us becomes irrelevant. It's our words and how we place them, and what they suggest to-the-reader, based on their background, not ours.

Sorry my news isn't better. 

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

View sachikomochiko's Full Portfolio

Not Enough

I'm not strong enough

I'm not good enough
You think this is a one&done marathon
When I'm really running 
Past the finish line
Legs aching
Stomach quivering
To reach perfection
Or some form of appraisal 
This is a joke 
No one understands the distance
The time it takes to even reach 
A minimal checkpoint
It'd be better for everyone
If I took myself out 
Out of this race 
Put my misery out
With one strike
One blow
One time 
No time
Left
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

I feel bad when my family says I'm not good enough sometimes so I have tried and tried again to be good enough. I then realized after writing this that I need to be good for myself and only try to get to where I want to be regardless of what others expectations or opinions are. Keep your head up :)

View ciararaee's Full Portfolio

Vulnerable

What am I?

But a shell of your man

A cold pessimist

But I felt the most immense connection with you

A warmth

Beautiful girls like you

Never gave me the time of day

But you did

The time we dedicated to each other

Missed opportunities...

They were yesterday

I threw you away

Knowing I would never be good enough

I'm not the man that would have made your dreams come true

The more we talked, the more I knew I could never have you

I would have given you all of me

But that would have never have been enough...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Moving on is easier when you never had anything

View abg123's Full Portfolio

Don't Speak

And when his eyes took gaze upon me,
And his mouth opened to speak,
With baited breath,
My fingers softned to his lips
Whilst drawing near to whisper close,
That he might hear
My beating heart against his chest,
"Don't speak, my love, lest it be in jest,
But breathe the veil from my soul,
And in that, let love be professed."

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It has been said that verbalization is the longest and biggest lie that has ever been told. Sometimes, methinks it could be true

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

4 Not 5

Folder: 
1995

Can't read the emphasis

Know what a fake smile is

You stop yourself from penning

Even now you're still wishing

 

You come to them asking

Where they will go

Things you don't know

Realize you're begging

 

Heartbreak's day, you come with them

Everyday, wish you're like them

They will never be

You will never be

 

You all walk, laugh, and talk

You think the problem's solve

Turn around the coffee shop soon

They're not there anymore with you

 

You say it's your fault

So you climb their walls

Then you fall a million times

It takes that to realize

 

Next, your hands shake

Well, they don't care

They'll never ask how you are

Even if you're crashed by car

 

You see things clearly

'Cause now you know why

They'll never see this

'Cause it's 4 not 5

 
View ginsywilde's Full Portfolio

Wake UP!

Wake Up! Wake UP! No more sleeping in bed
Little Peter is crying he needs to be fed

Angie is failing she can’t even read
This problem exists because she is poor- that’s what her teacher now believes

We are failing our children while we lie asleep
Our family structure is failing and is proven to be weak.

Wake Up! Wake Up! Mother while Peter is being raped
By the same man you love and claim it’s you that he dates

Wake! Wake Up! Dad your daughter is growing old
She needs a man in her life – so she sleeps with the addict who treats her cold…

Wake Up mom and dad no more thinking about you
But instead of our children whose thoughts are misconstrued

The alarm clock has gone off- No more sleeping in bed
Let’s save the children we have left
‘Cause half of our children are already dead.

Wake Up!!!!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wake up is a powerful piece screaming the needs of some of our children. Wake up has been described as the perfect wake up call for those caring for children. It is a great gift for someone in the social services field; teachers or any persons providing the needs of our children

Take care be good

I can't wait to see your newborn baby face
To have you as my child is something I can't replace
Can't wait to hold your fragile little body in my arms
I'll always be there cause your cry is my fire alarm
You don't ever have to worry cause daddy's got your back
Please don't cry, just take a nap and baby just relax
You don't need to rush, just take things at your own pace
I can't wait to do things with you like tie your shoe lace
I promise to be a good father and raise you right
You will be my first son I know that you'll be so bright
To you my little buddy I want to be Mr. Incredible
Can't wait for your birthday it will be a festival
Longing to see your face with daddy's smile
I know I'm ahead of myself and that it'll be a while
Cause mommy doesn't have you, That is still in store
I'm excited for the future and I can't wait til you're born

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'm not saying I want a kid its just that I'm imagining what it'll be like having a kid.

View jrestik's Full Portfolio

God?

Lately, it seems
God has taken a break
And left the world alone.
Alone to grow,
To Thrive
To Live, and then
Die.
But what a strange
Mistake God has made,
Leaving the innocent to
Deal with his pain.
Lately, it seems
There never was a God
At all.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Comments/thoughts appreciated

View invisibird's Full Portfolio