A Therapeutic Chain of Events

by suicidallyanonymous

I wanted to tell you
about the harmlessness
of inhaling bad days,
because the frost
is what kept you
so perfect.

Someone should murder you
with marionette lullabies,
cutting your eardrums
with copper fingers.

The ocean
seemed a little too violent,
but you were always
aching and empty.
rowboats and oars
seemed a little more
like home.

You were watercolors
and desolation,
bleeding splinters.
I was too textured
for your clay fingers.

Forever wasn’t meant to last.

We looked for variations of happiness
to find the bottom of another glass.
Your lack-luster days
routinely tumble
into oblivion;
you were convinced
carousels and tethered horses
would make life a merry-go-round.

We were something and everything;
dandruff in a snow globe,
You wanted to fall in love,
desperate and pivoting
on Achilles heels,
as you wrote love letters to suicide.

I simply found a way
to make you the victim,
as I traipsed into a downward spiral.

Sometimes we lied
about habits and withdrawal,
just to end up
isolated and labelled.
You were nicotine and mint gum
to my vodka and high heels.

It began with self-deprecation
and ended with broken
singsonged versions
of friendship.

2 Comments to “A Therapeutic Chain of Events”

  1. fantastic wordsmithery! I am lost and spellbound in the ebb and flow of this one: so very, very deep and painful but so intoxicatingly revealed. I have to come back to this one again – thanks for posting.

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: