In the wind

Interpretation becomes a feeling,

The Emotions melts the barriers of translation,

Translates to an emotional healing.

Time moves slower

When you’re not near,

Though this is always

There’s hope you’ll appear

A letter, photo or a silent whisper

Reaches out to bring me nearer

Words that touch the soul from the inside,

I feel when you read me, I can’t hide

Emotions felt from written words Transferring to me, thoughts of beauty, love and hurt

Holding hands through the mind,

An invisible rapture

bringing our beings to travel,

and be forever entwined

Sent from my Samsung Galaxy smartphone.

Hold my Hand (listen up)

Born cold, naked, alone and reeling,

External voices give love and feeling,

Assigned guardians protecting the soul from danger,

Only listeners now are the professional strangers,

Comes a time when there’s no understanding,

Racing thoughts free falling, never landing,

A loneliness leading to a fatal event,

Humans need to evolve, to see and prevent,

Exaggerated smiling a mask of pretend,

Pre-planning inside how and when it will end,

False empathy feels the rebound of shock,

Tears fall from deaf persecutors who mocked,

Surrounded by intelligence and warm blood,

Who have time only, for their own emotional flood,

Helplessness binds tight, held with no strap,

Doors of life closing on this too frequent trap,

An unanswerable question the finger of blame,

Just decided somewhere, time to extinguish the flame,

Silence crying out for any intervention,

Signs abundant that displayed the intention,

Too blind to see? Too many to mention,

History won’t reverse for any redemption,

With only benign friends left on the shelf,

No-one to listen, can only turn to yourself,

Which can only lead to a toxic affair,

Ending fatally with a still deathly stare,

From a corse cold slab, made of stone,

Here lies the final image, of feeling alone.

Suicide

Trying to create awareness.

An honest account of my near suicide thoughts and experiences, along with dealing with intrusive thoughts of suicide, for a majority of my life.

Touching briefly on witnessing suicide first hand and the emotions that follow. A poem on suicide to finish. Permission has been sought and granted by any third parties mentioned.

 

https://www.thecalmzone.net/   – The website for C.A.L.M, The campaign against living miserably. They deal with people who are feeling suicidal and families of suicides. A really good charity for anyone looking for answers on this topic.

Depression

It’s not a joke that worried look
And yes there’s such a thing as the blues
Smirking and sneering darkens my colour
This shade is not something I chose

I just need an ear to listen
It hurts when people speak over me
I prefer silence to any advice
Any hint of angst I’ll turn and flee

It’s a feeling not something you see
An invisible monster using sorrow as food
I don’t envy happy or joyous people
Just appreciate when I’m not in the mood

It’s probably really hard to understand
Even harder to try and explain
While you see no wounds on me
My soul is in complete and full pain

Just because I have this and not you
Doesn’t mean it’s not there or real
I’d give anything if just for five minutes
People tried to understand how I feel

Though you feel awkward when I am near
Hard to speak too with no response or sound
I also feel awkward and I’m afraid
That one day your stop coming around

Depression is a word where eyes roll
With sympathy it’s crossed off the list
People treat it the same as how I feel
Which is wishing I just didn’t exist.

Reflection

Avoid all, still not missed
Replays of friends who still exist
Thoughts cloudy of partners kissed
Many reunions, not on list
A ghost alive in this time
Head an alarm, heart a chime
Mortality clouds an open head
Life be easier without dread
Flashbacks penetrate, hard sharp funnel
Retreating briefly, a deafly tunnel

Boredom, no loneliness
Bordering mad, bordering mess
Panic rises, need more haste
Blood spilled, leaves bad taste
Cut on skin, scrape on mind
A bloody favour, being kind

Impulse brings clammy splatters
Wall, floor, neither matters
Ceramic sink tainted red
Shallow cut, far from dead
Choice made, closer to life
Drop blade, clean stained knife
Fighting with each shallow breath
Retreat from the near bitter death

Admit faltering defeat, move from shock to motion
Fallout with breaths, wash scars with rain
Expect the time that will define the future,
Of being able to face the mirror image again.

Colour blind

Its a horrible place to be,
When cries for help are not heard,
Even though I’m silently spoken,
I say it with a written word

It’s a void empty place, your mind,
The rational side has been sent,
Too hard for others to comprehend,
How I felt before the event

An idea that sticks, a plan to escape,
From life and this mortal coil,
Make peace with myself and the world,
Lay down early and be one with the soil

A point of no return or light,
The feeling that it won’t get any better,
I’m sure of it myself, but can’t speak,
So I leave it in a belated letter

To feel in this state seemed impossible
Hearing other achieving makes it feel real,
Clouds the mind with doubt and injustice,
Current plans and thoughts bring up a chill

Left behind would be unconditional love,
But I’m blind behind my tormented mask,
Maybe I have to go there to come back,
To seek help and be able to ask.

Storm Never Came (Suicide lays dormant)

Balance is one of life’s skills
Steering a ship through a perfect storm
The ideal happening is to be still
In todays world, that’s not the norm.

To find the perfect place in life,
Peace, warmth and tranquillity
Opposite feels like a sharp knife,
or out of breath, bottom of the sea

Weighing up the moments of our time
Mood dependant on rain or shine
Mind topples with the weight of it all,
Playful imaginings, turning suicidal

Would it hurt to give nature a nudge,
Hoping survival wouldn’t bare a grudge
If fate steps in and breaks my fall,
I could land on middle ground I wasn’t looking for

Feeling drunk when not even drinking
On solid ground, but inside sinking
Point of no return is not forgiving
Decisions near death, as hard as near living

I knew someone who acted on doubt,
So I’ve always seen it as a way out.

I started to worry when my mind went quiet,
So this is my idea of a spoken riot,
Putting it all down for all to see,
How this was an option, taken seriously

Looking at it now, it feels of nonsense
In death, I never wanted life on my conscience
I talked, I listened, I called my own bluff,
Luckily for me, in the end, enough was never enough

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