Poetry / Suicide

As I hold my eyes to Mother Mary so she’ll understand,
I fantasize about you because you are burned into my retina;
Your soft warm breath gently caressing my ears,
Calling to me like the curiosity of Pandora’s Box,
Pulling me in like a narcissist’s reflection.

While small beads of blood and sweat
Pioneer a worn pathway that dribbles down my hands,
I can feel the rosary I pray with cutting into my thick skin.
I’m distracted because I realize our first time will be our last,
And I’m tired of being a waiting girl at her first dance.

We don’t have dream about this moment anymore,
You won’t have to comfort me when my pillow is dampened with tears,
Or hold me in your strengthened arms and remind me the pain is worse than fear.
There is nothing I think about more than you.

My heart is consumed with the numbness we share
I take the rope and tie it tight just like you told me
You whisper slowly in my ears “I’m only helping you”
Somehow, when I jump from the chair
Letting my body hang from the ceiling fan
We conjoin together like two thrusting bodies
and you become me.

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