My Slow Little Suicide
It’s hard to understand suicide.
Is it selfish—
to think you could have changed the outcome,
that only you could have spoken
the words to pull them back?
Or is it selfish—
to say their leaving left nothing
but heartache behind?
No one truly understands suicide
until they stand before its purpose,
its reasoning.
Sometimes I think
we should check in with the happy ones—
the ones who have already decided their future,
their mask hiding clues
no one knows how to see.
Choosing death is not giving up.
It’s a solution
to suffering too heavy to bear.
In that moment
they don’t think of others.
It isn’t about anyone else.
It’s theirs.
And when a note leaves only a nod,
take it as such.
No one deserves the reasons why.
Be grateful your friend
found the peace and quiet
they could not find here.
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