These Suicide Free Verse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Suicide. These are the best examples of Suicide Free Verse poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Anarchy and misery whispered so softly that only she could hear
their voices, so she threw crabapples at a mail man to draw attention,
ran feral between cars, remapped streets that never gave adequate
directions or a single landmark to show her the way home. Mother
loved the shell her baby bird had long ago broken, a mourning dove
cooing for soft pieces, each scattered peep. Breath, the only thing
that was hers, truly. Oh, the relief to snatch a bored sigh, draw it back,
deny escape. A-gore-rhythms and Form-you-la’s, school’s strangle hold
methodology of mind control. Skip to my Lou. Skip class. Skip through
rush hour traffic. Still, no one understands. No one speaks the language
of Ash. Purge-atory is no fantasy. Every day, the same losses: possibility,
sensitivity, civility. Hey guards, listen to all the things she will never say.
Words, what the hell are they but manufactured strings of disappointment
that she chokes on? The entire world babbles platitudes and lawyers’ lies
and vulgar chastisements. Why speak, why waste a single breath?
They fling their crap, so she returns the favor, knowing they will not
translate her message. They use verbs like pepper spray and cavity search
and solitary confinement. She is nineteen, but the numbers don’t add up,
redo the equation. Just don’t ask questions or try to hurt yourself. Just?
Again, she feels the noose close her throat, smiles at her secret antidote,
the open doors of unconsciousness. A caress, this burn against the neck,
again and again, saved and saved and saved, as though they’d noticed
the flame’s gone, as though someone cared that she’d become soot, ash,
ashes. Ashley? Ashley to ashes to ash to dust, just dust. Just?
About this Poem
Ashley Smith was a troubled teen who would run into traffic, scream at people, cut classes.At 15 year, she was incarcerated for throwing crabapples at a mail man, this led to behavior which kept her in prison. She defied the system, threw feces at guards, refused to comply and strangled herself many times a day. Ashley was restrained in a chair for as long as 8 hours, forced to sleep on mattress-less bed frame, pepper sprayed, tazered and kept mostly in segregation. She would bang her head against the floor until she bled, told a phychologist she felt suicide was her only hope. She was moved 17 times between 8 facilities in only 9 months. On October 17, 2007, Ashley, aged 19, hung herself in her cell as guards merely watched, having been ordered to only intervene once she STOPPED breathing. Her death was filmed. There is currently an inquest into Ashley’s treatment and suicide. For more information-
May change come.
May change come, now.
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.
Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.
Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.
The Lonely Umbrella
An umbrella is hung on the edge of the roped bridge of sighs
its color a contrast to the black white and grey
In the still of the night there is much to convey
she must act very quickly no time to delay
she did not ply her dreams and desires too well
too many demons to dispel
she stood at the edge staring down at the lake
and murmured a prayer for the ones she will miss
a brief second and then into the watery abyss
a splash lands randomly on the bridge save one drop
The lonely umbrella hangs on the roped bridge of sighs
awaiting no one there is no one to care
dripping down on it slowly is a single drop
or is it a tear
Written March 1, 2014 by Ralph Sergi for Visual number 2
Shown in SYMBOLISM: THE UMBRELLA Poetry Contest by nette onclaud
I just drank a fifth of vodka
A lot on my mind
I start crying
But not because I'm sad or scared
It just feels like I'm supposed to
Razor blade in my hand
Ready to cut my flesh
First I slit my neck
Then both wrists
See the blood drip
Feel it running down my skin
Hear it hit the floor
One taste & reality hits
Blood is gone
A voice says,
"This is your future"
Then I wake up
DEVIL'S HIDDEN RANCH
Coyote howl, dogs growl
Gunshots, dead cow
Red barn left unlock
Horse shoe upon death's door
Tequila in a cup
Salt of cocaine, shadows of insanity
Guitar string, sad song
Bandit near the door, wife on the floor
Yelling out her name, he's gone insane
Loaded gun, life is done
Far and near ending his intoxicating fear
The road under the sun
A coward in his path
Responding to the Devil's wrath
In a Hidden Ranch in Mexico!!!!!!
he cradled me
the animals love you.
and if you stop crying
and sing to us
inhaled his breath
and believed that
if I breathe invitation
the wild wolves
howl while they prowled
it's not us they hunger
they seek the thunder
under the same sins and stars..
and for just a few minutes
felt the devils arms around me..
the rain washes us clean.
then one day
jesse was alone
the animals were sleeping..
as it rained
he blamed himself
for the health
of a sick earth...
got the bible
and his gun
closed his eyes and sung
as we scurried the floor
to gather his brains
and tried piecing his head
sat back against the wall
and tasted the blood
of an angel...
my finger still lingers
Take me to the countryside
where all the daffodils grow
fresh perfume saturating the air
dispersing sensational aroma
in the atmosphere.
Take me to the countryside
to inhale the balmy fragrance
of mother earth,
to walk on grassy lands
and hold each other hands.
Take me to the countryside
to gaze at the swaying trees,
and listen to them humming breathlessly
in the chilly breeze.
enchanting birds singing in the gusty afternoon,
dancing vigorously to their melodious tune.
Take me to the countryside
where all the natural things grow,
tangerine, oranges , banana and kiwi fruit.
homemade yogurt ,sweet yam
and fresh milk from grandpa’s lamb.
Take me to the countryside
to coalesce with earthy peasants,
to run up and down the cornfield
and waddle through onion beds.
Soak me in nature,
and replenish my aching soul
purge my agonizing wound,
and distill my sorrowful tune.
My soul yearns for spiritual fulfillment
to drown the chaos from the external environment,
mineral water and running streams,
strumming guitars and melodious flutes
are singing harmoniously,
and whispering the truth.
lead me to a place of comfort,
a place where I can breathe,
a place of beauty and incomparable dreams.
Take me to the countryside
to mingle with the animals,
to go horseback riding,
and camp on the mountain top.
Take me away from this hopelessness,
to a place of peace and quietness.
Take me away from this desolation
and find away to solve this confusion.
I want to be free,
free from this burden and misery,
so take me with you before you leave.
When I close my eyes and count to three
at the sound of the whistle
I charge you to set me free.
©2013 Christine Phillips
The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows
colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst
enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.
My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
as if in return for the love and beauty you feel
hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~
The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding
The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength
whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose
For I am your God your existence is not over yet .
You must Live ~You must Bloom
The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.
She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too.
She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before
And growing darker day by day
But she wouldn't let that stop her.
Suddenly a year had passed... and then two
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand
The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.
She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself
She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.
That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.
She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared, and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying
Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn
Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!
And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here
So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?
If heaven is a rest for the imbeciles,
the banes of hell my portion must be.
If cloud nine is a bordello,
and the streets of gold are carved along the red-light-district,
then god must be a panderer.
Am I not already rewarded?
My woman is: an orange, perfect in the sun;
a watermelon, succulent;
a mango with sweet nectar;
a passion fruit, freshly plucked.
One woman is ecstasy,
two is hell’s gate.
A saphead is a glutton for pure virgins.
Lives foolishly forfeit for peculiar sayings.
Let not this bird fly,
for the two that is promised?
When god became a sexist,
it came to pass that man recreate himself, a lunatic,
and the woman he objectified became the dominant sex.
Covet not the splendor of paradise,
where the mansions in my father’s house are brothels
perfumed with the scent of intercourse.
A gift of seventy-two maidens
is an everlasting punishment.