This poem is about someone who has had a history of suicide attempts. Over the years he has made a great come back short of becoming successful, only to come up against severe road blocks on his journey to his career path. He thinks about suicide but remembers the past and how much of a mess for other people to clean up the after math of the attempts. So instead of attempting suicide by pills or gun etc., he just lives his life, letting nature take its course, as he self-medicates with alcohol on a nightly basis, gradually destroying his internal organs, something he knows will eventually lead to a slow and silent death.
Complex misery manifests silently within deep depths of my soul.
My spirit screams endlessly at barriers blocking light to external freedom.
Paleness colors my perplexed face, for demons cannot escape.
I fail to feel your touch, hear your voice; Lost inside my head,
prisoner of loneliness and despair displaying a surface that really isn't there.
Upon meeting, I don smiles. You think it is real. I believe it to be me.
deep, deep, down in reality it is fake. Lies continue on.
If you can only visualize death inside me. Support systems are dwindling.
I feel void of any passion for life. My heart yearns to cry everyday.
As I fade into solitude, I attempt to retrieve sparks that once
made me passionate for God's many pleasures. "Nectar of the Gods"
unleashed discretely, provides me with temporary sanity,
only to slowly take away my senses and destroy my internal organs,
my body shell hardening, halting every breath. Cancer stricken,
slowly I perish from this earth in grasps of a silent suicide.
Paul Hickey
11-22-11
No comments:
Post a Comment