Untitled #4

It was a warm, spring day,
A day of sun,
Once indifferent,
Then misery and I were suddenly one.

I was kicked in the gut
And smashed in the head,
And for some reason unknown,
I felt like being dead.

I felt nauseated and faint,
And I wanted to cry
With self-doubt and self-loathing,
But my eyes were dry.

I shared the pain of the snow,
Worried I'd soon bring my own end.
Too tired to go on,
My veins I would rend.

Was this to be
Where I lay my mortal skin,
On eiderdown bed
And silky linen?

Or was this
To make my suffering long,
To prove to all
That I'm not so strong?

---

Originally written:    March 16-22, 2003
Put online:    March 23, 2003
Discussion:    This poem is based on the events of Sunday, March 16, 2003. I woke up that morning feeling usual--neither happy nor sad, just "indifferent." Suddenly, at almost exactly noon, I was met with the very real and very frightening desire to kill myself for no apparent reason. I suddenly simply felt like absolute shit. It was really quite amazing. This has never happened before, and, really, I hope it never happens again.


Back to the Index