Completed: 11-27-10

Background: I wrote this for a competition on sucide prevention, but I never got up the nerve to submit it. I found it in my graveyard (AKA, my flashdrive) and I thought I'd post it here.

Dedication: For Livy. Don't make it true.

Rolling Rain


Rain rolls down the window,

The reflection of my face.

I see her standing there,

The one I couldn't save.


As cold and pale as fallen snow,

Her eyes trapped in the past.

My worst nightmare has come to pass;

I can't escape my sorrow.


I listen in the empty dark,

For the call that never came.

I lay awake each night,

Waiting for the silent lark.


She could never see

All that she could be.

Now she will never know

Just what she meant to me.


I miss her more than I can stand,

It's brought me to my knees.

A written epitaph, a spoken eulogy,

This is not what we had planned.


If she had seen her father's tears

She never would have gone.

Did she regret her actions

Or was she too far gone for fears?


Rain rolls down the window,

Leaving bloody trails.

She sent herself to heaven,

And doomed us all to hell.

A/N: I've never actually known someone to commit suicide, but I know a few who've tried. I based this off of my feeling when they confessed to me. You'd think you'd feel love or compassion for what they're going through, and you do, somewhat, but mostly it's anger and remorse. Not necessarily at them, but at yourself. You're mad at yourself for needing them to tell you, for not noticing it yourself. The worst thing, though, is knowing there's nothing you can do. You can't save a drowning man if what he's drowning in is his own head.

Food For Thought: We always hear about the how and the why, but never what happened next. Why is that? The truth is, what happens next is worse than anything that happened before. No matter how bad off the suicidal person thought they were, they aren't the ones left behind thinking if only. Try escaping that.