Long Suicide note Poems
Long Suicide note Poems. Below are the most popular long Suicide note by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suicide note poems by poem length and keyword.
My shy moth eyes
were attracted to the beauty of your flame
The pleasure of knowing you
was worth the risk of me feeling the pain
From the hurt burn of you leaving ...
a house of mirrors with no image of you within
I always knew this day would come,
certain, like the rising of the sun —
Beautiful rabbit you would wanna run
Timid, nervous ever ready to flee
The mirror of reflection
would always set your fear in motion
Numbed by the booze,
paralyzed by the pills
Gave you enough courage to stay still ...
but, only for so long
Beautiful rabbit on the run,
afraid to face
the demons you’re running from
When the face of reality would sober in,
then the cracked mirrors
would leave your bleeding heart sobbing
So many lovers before me
handed you jilted tissues
for your self-esteem issue tears
Wiping the candle mask of your promiscuity,
cold wax let you know when it was time to flee
Beautiful rabbit you on the run,
wielding your body like a weapon
Beautiful rabbit giving the foxy bullet stun,
using love like it was a loaded gun
Beautiful rabbit on the run,
marred habits has disfigured you
Ugly memories you can’t let go of,
scarred flesh melted by an abusive flame
Leaves you often holding a gun,
ready to make your last rabbit run
Beautiful rabbit, don’t run ...
beautiful rabbit lay down the gun
It was the loss of your gorgeous butterfly wings,
which so attracted me to you
I saw the beauty inside others never knew,
the vulnerable side you kept hidden from view
The trauma of your lovers no longer wanting you,
made the truth of the silent phone too painful to hear
And the vanity of rejection you use to give,
is the emptiness you are now forced to live with
Lonely, emotional catacombs you weepingly prefer;
the Before portrait on your wall, I never saw her
Tragic soul went bed-hopping down the rabbit hole
Beautiful rabbit, don’t run ...
beautiful rabbit put down the gun
Beautiful rabbit, I desperately desire you,
let your marred heart be warmed by this truth
Beautiful rabbit, don’t run ...
finger the safety between my loving arms
Beautiful rabbit, don’t leave this way ...
burn the suicide note in the fireplace
Beautiful rabbit, don’t run away
Stay here with me ... please stay
the rest of your enchanted cottage days
Surprise, I'm back up from the kicks you gave me
I'll be the First to admit I'm crazy
I could curse out my ex, but at times I miss that lady
I just Don't want you back, I don't want to kiss you baby
I now know you can miss people but not want them in your life
Do I need to stand back for them to understand that?
Do my poetical words make up for everything this man lacks?
I've got my eyes on a new girl and if I get the chance I'll do everything right
Make her happy, be the reason for her smile and leave her satisfied
If my previous relationships killed me, then let her be my after life
I've been numb for so long, I can't remember when I last felt scared
Lately my mind has been elsewhere
I've Cried so many tears I'm wondering how I'll manage as a swimmer
Pouring Brandy and doing damage to my liver
I remain calm with the drink, i don't panic with the liquor
I used to do dumb things like try and speak a love language to a stripper
I've spent many nights in clubs that I'd have rather stayed at home
Sometimes i go for a walk in a rain storm and won't take my phone
Am i wrong for not wanting to be disturbed?
Should I hide it, and not allow them to see this hurt?
Not too long ago i was listening to my favourite songs with eyes closed
Picked up a pen, but instead of writing a poem i wrote my suicide note
But I was unable to follow through with a second attempt
My dreams of going to heaven went
Something came my way at the right time
I won't say what that is, because if i do, it will no longer be mine
I'll keep it to myself and be selfish
Helping too many people made me feel helpless
I pretend to be confident because i don't want to display I'm insecure
I've been in the battlefield and my scars and wounds portray my war
The way I feel about this girl, I've never felt this way before
But we've both got too many issues to deal with before we start a new relationship
If it's not with her, then I'll stay single as I'm not ready for dating chicks
I'll give my all to Meg, or if not, then hide my feelings from all others
I used to think i was the only one, but now I know we all suffer
It's not about how hard we fall down, it's about how we all recover
I've made it this far with only my pen and pad as friends
This is the losers revenge
The Lost Art Of Composition
too often my thoughts and the ability to express them
are taken hostage without a clue to the cause
this is an affliction familiar to many a writer
as if madness wasn't enough
it proves to be immune to every method I've used
to relieve my minds constipation
it enslaves your ideas and duct tapes the mouth of your soul
binds your fingers and hands so you are unable to write
I Whiskeyed and Scotched it self medicated with drugs
the addiction that resulted I thought could be bribed
held a knife at its throat threatened, bullied and beat it
poked and scratched at the eyes
Kicked it in the balls
pleaded and begged even got on my knees and prayed
all my efforts were ineffective
it only pissed it off more and tightened the grip
around my Muse's neck
I had exhausted my resolve to this disease that consumed me
there was no other option but to surrender
I decided to give up , knuckle under call it quits
not answer the bell for the next round
I disconnected my computer and turned off my cellphone
the typewriter on my desk just for show
I've had since college every once in a while I have at it
so I stashed in the closet with books by Sexton, Wolfe and Burroughs
Cisneros, Bukowski and Gonzo
I turned down the lights and lit some candles
sat at my desk to prepare my suicide note
what happened when the ballpoint touched the papers surface
was the key opening the front door lock to home
an energy manifested that I had known long ago
before Technology had deadened it's nerves
it sparked the transfer of thought into a word
forming the shape of a sentence
this cosmic electricity flowed into my hand holding the pen
then designed a paragraph the child of chapter
I touched every noun felt each verb envisioned the adjectives description
heard every "ly" in the adverbs reply and ignored the rules of punctuation
I had discovered the remedy to restore my inspiration
the cure I possessed all along
The lost art of composition was my salvation
my own prescription is what I wrote
the poet is an artist that paints in the darkness
a poems words the colors that create light
a writer is blessed with all of the answers
cursed in the search for what questions to ask
Judge Burdon
A dying woman's suicide note.
While writing,
I am trying to find a reason to live.
Amidst this chaos of heartbreaks,
A coward have I become!
I have forgotten how sweet
The bell of hope rings;
When the finger of God has already
Inscribed 'DOOM' on the walls of my life.
That garden of life which used to blossom;
The roses changed to thorns and
The stars we used to gaze at, sky high;
Have turned into stones.
Maybe I became insensitive to pain,
I do not remember how it feels to bleed;
But I can feel life bleeding out of me,
This blood—the only sign that I lived!
I lived dining on antidepressants because
My pain could not possibly be remedied
By the contents found in a first aid kit.
I loved!
I loved you more than life
Because you were a mother's prayer
For a father's protection being answered;
I dreamt!
I dreamt you would be my reason:
My reason to live on
In the face of tragedy;
I believed!
I believed pain would come and go,
Like the night turns into day—seasons.
If only I lasted longer;
But so would the pain—IF!...
I became a piece of TNT lit on both ends,
And blowing up was eventual.
I can feel that flame of life dying
And the gates of hell calling!
Calling. Calling. Calling.
The grim reaper knocks at my door,
Ready to collect my soul—
I called him.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My savior, my salvation?!
The world would be better without me,
What of you my child?
Remember. Remember. Remember.
I gave you life,
And for you I will lose mine
But not because of you.
Live on?
I would say,
But I still want to be a good mother. Yes!
Even in death!
My baby, my joy.
For you I will live
But the blood on this paper
Tells me my hour has come.
Happy to be going,
But sad to be leaving you behind am I.
Darkness is blackening my sky,
A deep sleep imminent—death!
I can already see a vision of me.
I am looking down from a place above
For my sorrows are compensated;
Death loves the troubled!
Death whispers in my ear,
His words sound like a soft crescendo
Of a comforting lullaby.
His song is my farewell...
Written in blood,
Every letter red.
At the very least,
I died smiling!...
Shanelle is 15 years old and goes to school as often as she can
She's popular at school and is expected to do well on her exams
Her smile covers 100 scars and tragedies she's had to embrace
Her friends have no idea of what tragedies she's had to face
She's always beaming and full of life
Her eyes glisten and her smile shines bright
All of the boys are interested because she wears revealing clothes
She's mainly interested in the ones who are dealing dope
They provide a comfort, no one knows that she's feeling broke
Her mother is a heroin addict and her father abuses her
She smiles for the world but nothing amuses her
She is forced to sleep with drug dealers so she can feed her mothers habit
The dealers just see Shanelle as another addict
She goes home with the heroin and her dad does unspeakable things to her that no child should go through
He covers it up, by saying "I love you, let me show you"
She tries to fight him off every time but he's just too strong for her
She closes her eyes and dreams of better times when there's no hurt
She's never felt love and wonders what that feeling is like
She's not able to live, her parents are stealing her life
She wears make up, and smiles brightly that's her favourite costume
She plays Brenda's got a baby by Tupac and Runaway love by Ludacris at full volume
She's falling behind with her school work because of all of this
Her teachers notice a significant change and look at all the days she missed
They call her into speak but she just says she's poorly
Because she'll get beat if she says my parents aren't there for me
She goes home that night and begins to write a suicide note
Tells her parents how she hates them as they didn't provide hope
Never made her feel loved, she had no one and that's why she had to end it
Her heart had been broken from the first time her dad abused her and nothing could mend it
Now she's hanging in the air, after such a tragic story this was her only way to find peace
Damn, I just had to wipe a tear off my cheek
I wrote this based on things that happen, it's not a true story that I had to tell
But it breaks my heart, Because I've heard a lot of stories like Shanelle's
What I thought would be a moment of weakness turned into a moment of bravery
When I was 15, my suicide note turned into a poem that saved me
All I could do was use a pen to express the pain in my heart
They are proof that I survived so I'm no longer ashamed of my scars
My favourite time to write is when I have a heart full of pain and ideas in my head
Looking back, anytime I fought back against depression it was me who bled
7 years free from Self-harm, I used to wear long sleeves on summer days
Never been to prison, but due to depression I know what its like to be caged
Every man for himself is the only thing that my sperm donor taught me
He made me realise my own strengths by not being there to support me
I used to talk to myself, but when around others, I was never comfortable speaking
I would bury my emotions and hide my feelings because I wasn't good at grieving
I've faced so many obstacles that my life feels like a survival course
I've spent nights alone fighting suicidal thoughts
Followed by days of battling monsters and demons
Depression told me we were on the same page, I changed the script and stopped reading
I put it all on the page because people will always try to reveal and expose your insecurities
I've got nothing to hide, I put it out for the whole world to see
I've made mistakes, but this is about my growth and maturity
I always try and remain warm hearted even though it's a cold world for me
Some scars are still bleeding but I'm finally healing within
November 14th 2019 I was sexually assaulted on a night out and I'm slowly starting to have sexual feelings again
I was broken when my ex girl told me I should just get over it, I understand she was frustrated that I wasn't ready to be intimate or perform
But I found it easy to let her go, that was one loss I don't have to mourn
I won't apologise for taking my time to heal and working at my own pace
I have to live with the pain in my heart, and I'm just trying to make this home safe
All I can do is write a poem to express the pain in my heart
I used to be embarrassed, but I'm no longer ashamed of my scars
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would kiss every inch of the page, to drench it
With my last breathings of doomed love
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would spray each corner with Arabian perfume,
So you will always associate death not with the chilling scents of
Decomposing flesh, or freshly turned soil, but with a heady
Intoxicating fragrance
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would use many inks in rainbow colours, to soothe
The ache of my parting words – to paint a kaleidoscopic picture of
My beautiful misery
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would not waste time listing my miseries,
For they were countless, and too heavy for a sheet of paper
To bear
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would compose it sitting on my bed, my legs a creamy white
Against the starched white sheet, my face lifting now and then
To the window, to distract myself from the solemnity by
Observing my final sunset
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would use the word ‘love’ as often as my heart
Nervously beats, in preparation for the coming stillness
If I were to write a suicide note,
I would remind you that were it not for you I would
Never have lived at all
I would tell you how you lifted my soul,
How you dragged me up from the depths,
The proverbial lotus flower pushing its blooms through
The sucking black mud
I would tell you how you were always with me,
Even when you weren’t – how your memory
Haunted, gently, bitter-sweetly
I would tell you how every time I closed my eyes
I saw your face,
Etched by angel fingers on the thin red easels of my lids
I would tell you how, to me, this feeble dying girl,
You were the most beautiful thing in the world
More beautiful than fresh-blooming roses,
Or a tropical sunset
More sacred than temples or churches
More radiant than the sun,
That blazing god
More poignant than the moon,
In all her melancholy splendor
More overwhelming than my frail heart could bear
If I were to write a suicide note,
It would quickly become a love sonnet,
Devoted wholly to you
And my death would be lost in the subtext...
1.
any colour may be applied to the
night-dress
this city actually has no cart
driven by horses
before a pretty long time the shepherds
had also told adieu
by secret signalling the red-hat addiction
called the pigeons sitting on the broken sticks
of the antenna to come nearer
on those dead-news the travel-story
keeps awake by whole night
and pours down on eye-lids
clouds
wrapped with cellophane
one day that wave sent
rolling-down-on-the-back hair
to the yellow balcony
those are all ancient drama
in the glow of the back-light you can see
civic humps have grown up on the back
of the birds every day and night
yet
under the dead-stop ceiling fan the dance
of the virgin reel wet with sweat does not fall short
the paper-buckles with the flowers painted on it
gets more and more tight on the air of the throat
velpuris of the evening
offer full enjoyment
2.
the night that comes all walking on the sands of the desert
how much concern does she has about the navigability of the river
when the husk of the water-chestnut is got open
flowing down the waves bursting into a blaze
to that flow is open the motor-car
the wan procession
and all the fishes that want to go upward the wave
so many varieties of floating
if the matter of clouds be let off
the multi-coloured fingers
also have so many infotainments
if the question of moveable property is raised
it is only a suicide-note from my father
and a knot
in the robe of the blue trouser
3.
the trees and creepers of the night
and the plants and herbs of the day
do all of them have the same blood-group
there is much flora
inside the jail-custody also
and in this ruins of the old palace
how much is it justified
to express eagerness about the geography
of one’s character
specially of the trees
of the fishes
or of the humans
it is said
all rivers
flowing through the bodies of the great men
are totally virgin
there is also the blank desert
on the silent snow-valley
in the corner of your
lips
scared of falling
ghosts are calling
the pavements getting close
wind rushing through my hair as if being played by ghosts.
i hit the ground
giving a bone cracking sound and people start to gather
they draw my body's outline on the ground and put me on a platter
they take me to the hospital i only have seconds left to go.
they give me drugs that will surely put on a show.
I'm getting dizzy and i cant keep open my eyes
but the only thing keeping me awake
is my loves beautiful eyes
oh the lies.
the lies she said
put on like bread
they must of rubbed off on me.
for i played the game too.
but she didn't see it from my perspective
for she couldn't tell my truths from lies
so now she left me with an uncertain look on my face.
shes put me back down again my heart is gone and misplaced
i wish she would come back to me i wish she would try again.
but now shes scared and i don't know where to begin.
i wake in a hospital room stepped to the bed.
i see needles and IVS in my arms
blood stained sheets
what ever happened I'm sure glad i wasn't awake for it
until i noticed they went doing operation on my body
no
they were doing operation on my brain
insane?
IN-VAIN!
I scream and shout and scramble my arms and legs
two big men in suits walk in
hold me down while a nurse gives me another shot.
I fall asleep fast and dream of her again.
her hazel eyes,
her short cut hair
my destiny ceased and turned to my demise
oh those hazel eyes.
leaving back a letter stating (every thing in parentheses isn't in the note):
dear mom and dad
please don't be sad
don't get mad
it was never your fault
(alright maybe it was)
it was mix of things
we all know who your going to point fingers at
its wasn't because Jeanette i promise you
our love had been wrecked and now i don't know what to do.
i took these pills to answer your prayers
no more pain Mommy
and look dad no more annoying kid running around.
well, i hope you enjoy your life and remember life isn't as meaningless as i think it is.
Form:
Throughout life I've been used and abused,
like the others when I look around.
Wondering how we've become so confused,
why our screams make not a sound.
How the world keeps turning each day,
as death and war go on.
Thinking how can we go on this way,
tragedy breaking at each dawn.
Our country crashing down,
violence ruling society today.
The proof seen all around,
as we learn to live life this way.
Loved ones being sent away,
as war calls their name.
Many never see another day,
life without them not the same.
Kids carrying guns and getting high,
and dropping out of school.
I just can't understand why,
they think it's all so cool.
Society divided among the rich and poor,
and the color of our skin.
Why does it matter anymore,
why can't we all just win?
Constantly worrying on the judgement of our peers,
how we look in everyones eyes.
Labeled with indifference our greatest fear,
covering imperfection with lies.
Those subjected to cruelty of tease,
picked on and isolated each day.
They pull the trigger with such ease,
a suicide note with nothing to say.
Our government hiding what they don't want us to know,
reducing our freedom right in front of our eyes.
Their foolish mistakes begining to show,
our country being ruled by lies.
Jealousy and greed the base of our lives,
anger fueling the chaos furthermore.
Our sorrow crying in the blood on our knives,
destroying society to the core.
Horrific events seen on the news each day,
rape and murder taking place throughout the night.
Ignoring destruction,not knowing how to live any other way,
peace and simplicity so far out of sight.
I see destruction all around,
our world running out of good.
The falling of society not making a sound,
and that which does not understood.
Shunning God from our lives,
bringing Him in only for blame.
Solving problems with guns and knives,
doing what we can to hide our shame.
This poem is not done yet,
i just want opinions on how it is so far.
Thanks.
Form: