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Sinking again, barely catching my breath as another wave comes up. 

I feel myself being crushed in the darkness that surrounds me. 

The darkness that calls itself depression. 

I know I’ve been here before. 

I know I can survive this fight.  

I know that I just have to keep swimming, keep trying. 

But as another wave hits, my resolve weakens. 

Under again. 

The waves take me prisoner. 

Trapped in the dark despair that I’ve repressed before. 

Hold on. 

Hold on. 

Keep breathing. 

Keep your head above the water. 

You’ve been here before. 

You’ve survived this before. 

Be brave. 

Broken Things

I’ve always been attracted to broken things. Broken people. Broken animals. I like broken things.

Broken things are attractive. They stand out among the crowd. They’re different, like me.

I notice the sadness – the smile that just doesn’t reach the eyes. I notice the scars. I notice them, because I wear them too.

I like the broken things. I like how they feel. When I hug them, I can feel the broken pieces.

There are broken pieces inside of us. The damage done by years of misuse. I see those in you too.

Here we are, the same place at the same time, looking at the image of each other. You can see the brokenness of me too.

I like the broken things. Not because I can fix them, because no one can do that. But because they like me too.


My name is suicide. You all know me.

I’m a coward in many ways.

I am selfish. I take and take.

I hide behind smiles.

I hide behind tears.

But you all know me.

My name is suicide.

I don’t discriminate.

I’ll take your sister, your brother, your mom or dad.

I’ll take black or white, male or female, gay or straight.

I don’t care about religion or race, gender or sex.

I don’t care how much money you have, how many friends you have.

I don’t care if you have kids or if you live alone.

I lie.

I tell you things will be better.

That no one will miss you.

I’ll be your friend. You can tell me your secrets.

My name is suicide.

I’ll embrace your differences.

I’ll tell you what you want to hear.

I’ll take you from this world with me.

Together forever we’ll always be.

My name is suicide.

I hide in your school.

I hide in your home.

I hide in your neighborhood or mall.

I take sisters from brothers, parents from children, and family from each other.

I take veterans and civilians.

I am selfish.

I take and take and don’t give back.

I’m always hungry, always hiding, and right there in the back of your mind.

My name is suicide.

And I am selfish.

Now, before you all start saying that this is not fair, I am not talking about victims of suicide. I’m talking as though suicide is a person who doesn’t care who you are, how much money you have, or what religion you are. Suicide is very prevalent. It’s out there. And suicide takes people from us before we even know what happened. Suicide needs to be talked about, the stigma needs to end. It should be a normal conversation to make sure that we all are safe. And if we aren’t safe, the conversation needs to turn to “how can I help?” People commit suicide everyday. And I think it’s time to talk about it.

The Next Chapter

I need to be able to turn the page. To close this chapter and move on.

I need to not care what you’re doing anymore. To move on without wondering about you in the back of my mind.

I’m different now than I was before.

I’m not the same person that I was. I’m better.

I don’t have as many panic attacks.

I don’t have as many down swings.

I’m mostly stable now.

I’m finding myself.

Finding out what I need in my life.

At one point, I thought what I needed was you.

You’re nothing but my past now.

Another chapter in history.

You’re not a part of me anymore.

I’m not crazy anymore.

I don’t want to die.

I want to live my life and move on.

But I want to move on with you.

I want to close the door and not look back.

But there are so many good memories that hide there.

You’re nothing to me anymore.

You’re just a dream that I had.

You know that place between sleeping and awake?

That’s where you will always be.

That’s what I need to clean up now.

You can’t be there anymore.

You’re not welcomed here anymore.

You’re nothing but a piece of my history.

Another chapter to be closed.

I love you but I’m letting you go.