Suicide and Coffee – Poetry

Suicide and Coffee

My friend tells me that each morning
she awakens with suicide and coffee
on her mind, and then she has a smoke

I want to tell her how my mind
entirely bypasses the coffee
how suicide is the first thought
second thought, all day and night thought

I want to tell her that if I must stay
a simple razor blade will do
crisscrossing over old scars, gashes
just deep enough to bleed out the pain
or awaken the senses and escape numbness

How I want to see my blood trickling
down, down, down
my thighs or arms like red rivers
creating their own pathway
through my white valleys of flesh

But instead, I sit silently, coffee in hand
swallowing her pain as I stifle my own.

©2011 Lori Carlson. All Rights Reserved.

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small stones – May 17, 2016


art credit: Moonlight Fantasy by Mary Espen

why do I dwell here
in such darkness
so removed from the light?
surely my soul would thrive
if sunshine filled me —
but isn’t there muted light
from the moon as well?
And I need the dark to see it–
this duality confuses me
I question my very existence–
Is it time to let go
of the questions
and merely do the work?