Photo by Charles Ardinger
Close Encounters of a Suicidal Kind
I’ve had close encounters with the knives in my kitchen
staring at them like they are my salvation
I could pierce right through my agony and find peace
I’ve had close encounters with plastic bags
which could hold my anguish, placed over my head
tying secure knots, suffocating my pain
I’ve had close encounters with the pool
in front of my apartment, I stare at calming waters
picture myself diving in to drown out my despair
I’ve had close encounters with the Lake Street bridge
where the metro rail zooms underneath it
contemplating jumping to get ahead of my racing thoughts
I’ve had close encounters with the Santa Monica pier
placed over a dozen heavy rocks in my pockets
so that I could sink to the depths of joyful submersion
I’ve had close encounters with a means to end my life
He says it’s a lot of work to make love to me.
As if he needed to punch in and out for his shift
and be paid for his services.
When Valentine’s Day comes up we argue
about how he bought flowers and chocolates
for every other woman he pursed but me.
He asks me if I want to be bought,
as if my worth where something
he could ever afford bussing tables.
I tell him I want to feel
like more than just a
slowly rotting corpse lying next to him.
It’s been seven months since I’ve had a shower
and no one not even my children
want to help clean my feet or wash my nappy hair.
I don’t have strength enough to bird bath myself
let alone write a poem about my emptiness
for your amusement or attempts to relate to my being.
Is it really that hard to love and care for a person
with “mental issues” that wishes for nothing more than
to be heard, accepted, and treated like someone who matters.
He bought me flowers a few days after Valentine’s Day.
After my sister’s 2 date boyfriend showered her with
cookies, gifts, and a heart felt message inscribed on the box.
I thought I would sleep peacefully that night.
My eyes and heart glistened in
what I imagined happiness felt like.
That night I had a horrible nightmare…
In my dream state he tells me –
“I could never love someone like you”.
It was a close encounter with feeling
like I could ever be anything other than
an unwanted burden just begging to die.
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