Yet again Suicide is on my mind.
I’m Dr. Jekyll plotting to kill Mr. Hyde, who has disinclined
to say anything to me but words that mortify like pesticide
sprayed on my pride,
a simple weed, trying to get dignified.
I don’t fear death
I do fear the dramatics after I take my last breath.
Mommy bent over like the branches of a weeping willow
While she weeps for her only son, an emotional albino
Meaning I had a deficiency in displaying aggressive ignorance
Too smart for my own good and slow to act against belligerence.
So, most nights of my youth I wept in my pillow and prayed for deliverance.
Drunk with depression like a wino
I flood my mind with positive thoughts
But my demons swim
Maybe I should go out on a limb
And say life isn’t worth living
Because I been giving
To this world with nothing in return
I feel like I can’t give anymore
But one last event of gore
After I pull the trigger
Happy that I won’t be here no more