Knives

The pain was too much,
I couldn't go on;
Was this decision right,
Or [once again] was I wrong?

I pondered my choice,
Remembered my friends,
Recalled how their happiness
I'd sworn to defend.

But everything was changing—
I was so scared;
Life wasn't worth living,
And nobody cared.

How I always told them they
Could always count on me,
And how they'd always say that
Suicide was cowardly...

But the pain, it wrenched
So hard at my heart,
I didn't know why, but
I'd fallen apart.

My grades were slipping,
I spent so much time
Wondering if I should
Commit this old crime.

The knife had come
To my chest once before,
It just didn't seem
So hard anymore.

But then there was you,
And I don't know how,
But suddenly everything
Seemed to turn around.

I loved my friends, so I'd
Hung there by a strand;
But somehow you were different,
You gave them the upper hand.

Everything changed,
I wasn't even sad!
And all at once life
Didn't seem all so bad.

You were my savior,
My life and my light,
And for a moment or two
All was perfectly right.

As if I had not been
Through quite enough trauma,
Then there came into
My view a new drama...

There was West Virginia,
We were going to move;
It was as if my father
Had just sealed my doom.

It came on e'er so slowly,
So it was no surprise;
My fairy-tale fantasy:
A box of white lies.

The pain all came back
But I knew in my heart
That I could not just
Go back to the start.

Six months since then—
Maybe more, maybe less—
Passed and still I can't
Sort out this mess.

"When God closes one door,
He opens one more,"
I hold on to this,
But sometimes I'm not sure.

And I feel that I have
Neither God nor love,
Nor friends or an angel
To watch me from above...

But unmoving from the kitchen
Are the deadly knives,
For who else but me can
Keep the memories alive?

Thoughts of my friends
And of my God;
Thoughts of you, my angel,
And I'll never stop

Living.

Author's Notes: Well everyone seemed to be writing poetry about how they want to commit suicide, so I wrote this as a way to sort of...say that it's not a good idea. That probably doesn't get across well, but the inner conflict is pretty obvious. In writing this, I stopped and thought "hey...what would my friends have done without me?" Even for those people who think they don't have any friends or people who care about them--what about friends and loved ones from the past and future? I think people who commit suicide don't consider these things first. But anyway, that's why I wrote this.
It starts out by two different ideas battling within the same mind, and then sort of extends to tell a history of what happened to me, and it leads up to my decision in the end. Sort of crappy progression of ideas sometimes, but hey, I didn't exactly spend two hours on this like I did on "Aloha"—this one just sort of happened. Hope you like it nonetheless, and I hope with all of my heart that anyone who reads this who thinks or has ever thought about suicide can learn to appreciate life for everything that it is, even if this poem doesn't help. =) Keep smiling, everybody, and happy reading (and perhaps reviewing lol)! ~MJ