My Suicide

Should the incomprehensible 

Become your victory

You lose anyway

Because contrary to your belief

I've nothing of what you want.

Your win would strip away all dignity

I would become this empty shell

Incapable of being able to support

Myself

Let alone your greed

And my life would cease

And many more destroyed with it

But you want this anyway

Don't you?

Of course you do. I am better dead than alive to you. Despite the cost. 

clock radio

the voice is a buzz

clicks in and fading out

periodic silence

a flying insect in and out of ear reach

what is that

you mentally ask

from where do you talk

to me

a collapsed soul

failed under the weight

of failed passed

step into light

i

this is me

tis all about me

a bout of narcissistic misadventure

to whet a solitary soul

ridden with an illogical guilt

secure in the understanding

it isn't me

except for being attacked

for gilt of none

so a zero sum game

where associates and the associated 

will lose themselves 

to an imbalance 

cause?

is in how it is stated

reason driven into void

a vengeful rational 

this cause of harm

and caught

me

wanting what is responsible 

my wealth is in my nature

i faced the great adventure

me

going when you did not

and then once you tasted

and enjoyed it's sweet nectar

yet selfishly have not learned

organic growth requires nurture

an earned place to be able to say

it was all me

i stood alone and earned this

for me

and pride then peace it's yours

keep an eye on i

not on me

the breach

he watched carefully

returned frequently

his lop wheeled bicycle squeaking its

and his

presence

a jump and clear

across the gap

while the agent was occupied elsewhere

she watched hopefully

the soft flakes falling

covering her car in a warm blanket

the ice formed

the streets filled

praying the clear

will leave her free

from clearers finding fining furiously

I held closely

responsibility and reasonability

to find none where fair is concerned

and that grab

for unearned living

taking a step of unwarranted illegality

to bury balance deeply

in loopy holes unjust

bravado hides

the painful emotion

your words insight incites

that bare fear

unfounded guilt shared

senesce senseless

common ground with your others

free with in the stacks

that space we need to cross

an unintended gap in time

we cannot live to standards

beyond our control

yet you mandate them to civility

society mean hearted

so our holes grow deeper and wider

yet we will to be alive

we are messengers among you

made by the whole

a reminder to the few

staying heads high hearts low

just.

so we can

be a part apart 

across the breach

Mind the Gap

Who exactly makes the choice?

Is it me, a spirit free?

Or perhaps the choice is made for me.

It is all such a swirl yes?

These bombarding feelings

Bubbling up dread then relief

And finally interconnected joy

Provided things go our way

Is it a reaction to my decisions?

Or are we part of a wider play

A stage not of our choosing

Destined for negative when we forget our role

Or god forbid, choose an unpopular way

And then ovation when we deliver

The critics heaping praise upon conforming

Not so different, my creativity might be stifled

And that fear is mostly up here though manifest there.

Mind the gap.

What does that mean?

Does my mind have a gap that place where choice is made?

Or made for me?

I can leap to safety

Or step into that unknown

See how I land.

onor

that scent has haunted me

slight spice over a pungent 

like the hanging odour of a freshly sharpened pencil. 

and once completed another

mingled amassed emotions end

exhausted our shared fragrance that of fresh made paper.

perhaps we should write stories together.

Afterglow

Do you smoke after...

... well, hmmm, you know. (red faced, but why)

I don't know. I've never checked.

That was the usual gag line response.

Young lads with knowledge gained

From Rat Pack movies, comedy gags,

And lavatory intellectualism usually followed by nervous giggles

An all knowing mass of hormonal nothing

Divided from the subjective objectives of our imaginations

By a mere wall.

Were these conversations taking place there too?

We imagined from black and white

The post conversations punctuated with the orange ashen glow

Spirits of tobacco sensually circling talks of future opportunity

With truths maybe still unknown 

Hidden buried deep within 

Still

A future now, and it is all changed

Cigarettes are dangerous

And smoking in bed well...

Do you smoke after?

I don't know, I've never checked.

The words remind me anew

From the new blue screens of our silent afterglow.