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Suicide Gone Wrong
(4/15/80 / Virgina)

Suicide Gone Wrong

Poem By janis nicole townsend

my blood clots too fast
to kill myself
(I just found that out)
and my hearts too strong
to just die out from pills
so, basically I’m stuck here
without a gun
(I’m a nut! !)
the nurse thinks it’s “pretty cool”
and “pretty neat” that I write poetry
how funny—
now the whole world is going to patronize me
(is this what I asked for or what)
wow—
‘if my mama could see me now’ (she’d cry)
the doors are wide open
and I’m naked with a pen and a pad
how sad it is that I couldn’t have just died
I’m just alive with a new bill to add to my collection
when my bill collectors call, I’ll just say, “not to my recollection.”
maybe I should’ve just moved away.
man, what will my dad think of me
and my aunt and uncle.
I’ll just be an embarrassment
(and now the doctor wants me to talk to a ‘specialist’)
specialize in what,
fixing a nut
or maybe paying all my bills
and forcing people to love me
like they say they will
or maybe he’ll just specialize
in making himself think
that I’ll change my mind
and decide its okay to live in hell,
but I won’t
I don’t want to be here
I just want to start the game over
try all over again
from the beginning
(and now my ‘specialist is talking to someone,
and they are looking right @ me)
I feel like a lab rat
and I’m in a glass box
where everyone can see in
and they don’t even give thought
to the fact that I can see out too
I can see every glance and ‘crazy girl
in that room’/thing they do
blood work presides
and I must give my arm back
(damn, last night the blood didn’t run like that!)
turns out I had just missed
the big boy, fat
vein
I think I’m truly insane
because I can sit here and put on a great act
of being ‘okay’ and ‘a great person’
in fact
maybe I’m a crazy, genius, with insane qualities
or maybe I give myself too much credit
and life’s just getting the best of me.

User Rating: 4,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

I like the poem, you make great points, there are few poets that share your view, SEXTON, even hemingway, and on and on.......and PLATH.any way i like the poem.....


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