Suicide

And I shall end National Poetry Month with this depressing poem.  I wrote this a couple years ago in the middle of my breakdown stage.  And I'm quite happy to say that I'm glad to have survived and am doing much, much better.  Most days I don't even feel depressed.  Things are looking up.

Sometimes it feels like the only choice
Unless things get better
I fear I will have no other option
Choices are limited
I feel as if I would be better off
Dead
Except I can't bring myself to pull the trigger

My Father Part 2

I said I would post about my father's memorial service but I really couldn't think of anything to say.  It was your average catholic memorial service.  Very small service; only 15 people came.  The service was kept private so as to avoid any issues with his girlfriend showing up.  It wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be to get through; just very draining.  And then I had to go out to eat with everyone in attendance.  

Last Thursday my sister and I went to our cousin's house to look through a box of dad's pictures and see if there were any we wanted.  I got some pictures of my father and one of my grandmother.  There were quite a few pictures of my sister and I, which she seemed surprised at.  She and dad weren't close at all.  But he always had pictures of us displayed in his home.  He may not have been around much but he loved us.

I cleared of the top of one of my bookshelves for his urn and the pictures I got.  I wish I had a more recent picture of the two of us.  I stopped really seeing him when I was around ten and that's when the pictures of us stopped.  I wish I would have one taken when I was staying with him a couple years ago.  I did get a picture of my grandparents though and a picture of my father, sister and I from when I was a baby.  I guess it worked out okay.

The night we went over the pictures was the only time I really cried.  My father and I weren't close but thinking about him is upsetting.  Writing this was upsetting.  I try not to dwell on it.

Pity

I wrote this poem a couple of years ago, probably a couple of weeks before my breakdown.  I was having a tough time of things and my subsequent termination sort of brought everything to a head.  I'm proud to say that I'm much better now.

I feel so alone
I wish I had someone
To talk to
But I'm terrified
That if I open up
To someone
They won't understand
Or worse
They'll pity me

Evil of Old

The month of April is upon us once again and as you may or may not know that means it's national poetry month.  I will of course be participating in this wonderful event by posting some of my poetry.  This poem titled Evil of Old was written my junior or senior year of high school.  

A sickness is spreading
Throughout the land
Passed along
Hand by hand

It spreads like poison
Through the air
Infecting all
It encounters there

Heed my word
And you'll have nothing to fear
Even when
The poison draws near

It travels along
Through rain and snow
Refuses to die
But continues to grow

Guard yourself
From this wicked foe
For when it spreads
It brings nothing but woe

Empty your ears
Of the things that are said
For if you don't
There will be trouble ahead

Strengthen your heart
To the problems you face
Take a deep breath
Accept them with grace

Do not be swayed
By others beliefs
But believe in yourself
To find your relief

And what is the poison
That spreads through the land
Infecting minds
As it slowly expands

The answer's so simple
That no one could guess
The name of the poison
The cause of distress

The answer is anger
So simple, so true
The evil of old
And also of new