#suicidediary

Driving into the blinding sun the clouds are ripping long scars across the sky as if God were slicing a razor into his massive wrists this does not bode well I can only hope that I get there in time the exhausted hiss in your voice as I held the phone to my ear has made me feel as if sandpaper were being rubbed against my nerves I wish that I knew a prayer If I did I would say it for you now In the car next to me a portly man with the head of a crow is looking in my direction and laughing Is there something wrong? with my car? with me? do I have egg on my face? again? There is something about his expression that makes my stomach roil and pitch I can see your face reflected on the windshield even though you’re not here and I watch the speedometer inch higher and higher hoping I can reach you before the end and the storm clouds are gathering in the furrows of my brow Why am I here? on this road? in this country? looking in vain for you who died this morning but who I lost long before that

five words magic words my father spoke them magic words spoke them aloud five words magic words words that change the world terrible words ugly words words that cut my father to the ground like an axe chopping a tree five words magic words the five words were these your brother has committed suicide with these words my father began to die slowly but perceptibly a little bit more every day with these words these five words these magic words a vital man a flawed but decent man filled with life began to disappear from me, from us, from everyone folding in on himself with these words five words magic words your brother has committed suicide five words magic words take a life, any life my father’s life that is placid, calm, sweet and turn it upside down turn it inside out with five words magic words expose the world as cruel, remorseless unforgiving that’s what they do these five words these magic words how does a person go on living? when they have spoken the words the five words the magic words your brother has committed suicide there aren’t any words any magic words any five words any million words that can change that can explain there aren’t any words that can help once you’ve spoken the magic words the five words five words that can cripple a man

Today is the one year anniversary of my brother’s suicide so I would like to post this piece in his honor. Be free, little brother, be free Throw off your shackles and fly Embrace the love you could never find but was always there Come visit me in my dreams Know that, wherever you are, whatever your form, you are, exactly, what you are supposed to be My darling little brother, you always were

In the end there is a suicide Hold my hand as tightly as you can Go ahead and cry It’s okay to cry I don’t care if you like this I mean, I want you to like it I wrote it for you I mean, I wrote it for everyone but especially you so I want you to like it you know what I mean? Look in my eyes Can’t you see your pain is the same as mine Maybe everything I’ve written so far is one long Mother’s Day card In the middle there is a suicide Cling to me I am your life jacket as you are mine If we let go we will surely drown in memories and remorse You were in love with my potential but my potential isn’t me You’re all I have now Please tell me that isn’t nothing even if you know it isn’t true Where do we go from here? Where do we go from here? In the beginning there is a suicide Where do we go from here?

There is an indelible picture seared into my memory like a brand of myself, as a cantankerous old man trapped in the body of a little boy pushing you on a swing Pushing and pushing, ever more forcefully watching you arc, higher and higher enjoying the chaotic music of your exuberant giggles Pushing and listening Pushing and listening Smiling my face into a carnival mask of joy and delight reveling in the bond that cannot be equaled cannot be broken Until one, final, all-consuming shove propels you as high as you can go and the last thing I see is your silhouette, ringed by the sun I drop to my knees while you and the swing return back the line of the arc to strike me full in the face and carve a long, vicious crevice down the center of my skull Today, in the mirror a little boy, trapped in the body of a cantankerous old man is running his fingers over the proud scar that still remains and wondering Wouldn’t it be something if we could hold onto a bond as good and real and pure as the one we shared in that moment on that swing for even a tiny fraction of the time I’ve held onto this memory or this wound?

I hope there’s something better than this love for you It was never strong enough for you to feel it deep down at your core where it could have helped knit back together the pieces of you that had fallen or been ripped away I hope there’s something better than this earth for you This was not a place you could ever fully fit that could embrace and cherish and protect the fragile thing you are that could offer your roiling mind so beset by demons and by doubts a quiet place to land I hope there’s something better than this death for you It has left us naked and exposed laid bare our fears and failures to the harsh light of day and reduced us to aching for you reaching for you yet always coming away empty-handed I hope there’s something better than this life for you and I hope you have found it by now

Walking my dog down a crowded street I smile when I see you waltzing up to greet me wearing that shirt that was always so recognizably you It’s disappointing when I realize that it’s just a shirt I see In the grocery store I get excited when I notice you out of the corner of my eye picking through the produce oblivious to all around you until I turn to embrace you and realize there’s nothing there but the fruit Waiting for a plane at the airport I see you on the escalator and as you move closer to me I can almost feel and smell you your presence is so palpable but as I reach out to touch you some total stranger passes by I see you everywhere in crowded rooms, in paintings in reflecting pools of water in the shadows of midnight when you are just an eidolon a sad and ghostly story to frighten children with at night