I’m driving home, too fast, as always,
around curves on too narrow roads.
My headlights pierce the darkness,
painting the surrounding trees in lily white.
Each trunk beckons lovingly,
a world-stopping kiss and a
permanent embrace.
I am so tempted by each offer
lying just beyond the guard rail,
in wood and leaves and twisted metal.
My wheels squeal on each corner
as I ponder fate,
as I always will
and always won’t.
If you truly are tempted by what’s beyond the guardrails, I can relate.
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Been there, done that, decided my son was more important. I still have suicidal ideations, but I remember why I’m here. 🙂
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I agree that children help ground us.
I think the crazy pull of a cliff is separate from suicidal for me. I wondered if that was more of what you were going for.
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This is beautiful…
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Thank you so much! 🙂 It’s a poem about suicidal ideation, and it came to me as I drove home around numerous bends on a narrow road, after a traumatic event. It’s a summation of how I felt at the time, but also how I feel much of the time. I’ve vowed never to attempt suicide again after my first miserable attempt a few years ago, but it doesn’t stop me thinking about it.
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Yes i read the previous comment. Im so sorry you ever went through such a low point in your life. I hope its better now. Your writing is impeccable. I was in awe.
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The good thing about lowest points, though, is they can force us to re-evaluate and find new strength and purpose. Thanks again for your kind words, much appreciated. 🙂
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Yes exactly. Being knocked down makes us stronger for the next time we rise 🙂 and you’re very welcome.
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