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The thought's in my head
Thirty two pills in the hand
Don't they understand
What I'm going through
Don't they understand
I will follow through
Can't they realise
I just have to
The pain I feel is just unreal
There's no one to talk to
There's no one who'll share
They are in my mouth
They are just there
I just don't care
Dare I follow through
I just just have to
GULP! I swallow through
With tears in my eyes
I quickly realise
I want to live too
I really want to
So I hollow too
They're by my side
Ambulance arrives
Averted suicide
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Written by Robru (272 comments posted) 27th July 2008 |
I am never able to understand how anyone could get so low as to take their own life. Society has much to answer for when it has moved away from the friendly neighbor attitudes of past times to our current throw away style of living. Is life so cheap? |
Written by Phil (7006 comments posted) 28th July 2008 | I do hope this isn't personal.
All he best, Phil |
Written by Veronica_Milvus (768 comments posted) 28th July 2008 | The best line in here was "thirty two pills in the hand" because it is specific and sounds chillingly deliberate.
Well, I am glad you ended this poem with the thought that it is worth hanging around after all. One of my friends made a suicide attempt a few years ago and now considers that every day she lives is a bonus. | Exact number
Written by Katanga (1537 comments posted) 29th July 2008 | Yes, I agree with Veronica - the exact number of pills makes this poem truly real, and chilling.
I am deeply saddened by the content of this, Violet, and hope you can rise out of these feelings - in fact, judging by you recent postings, I think you have.
Please bear in mind, when you feel this low again, that one almost always rebounds upwards a bit, although one doesn't realise it at the time.
I've been there - I understand you, at least a bit.
Love,
John XXX |
Written by Kirio (12 comments posted) 26th August 2008 | Very few people who attempt suicide actually do it. The psychiatric hospitals, at least in Scandinavia, are full of patients who were 'suicide' attempts, many being 'chronic' suicide attempters. In that form, it is a cry for help, for attention, and for those who 'cut' themselves frequently, the cutting is a 'pain relief' from a greater emotional pain. Some attempters go too far ... they cut too deeply, take too many pills, phone/call for help too late.
The poem is very true of an attempted suicide: the call for help, for attention, the depicted MC being described that way as what actually is in life, a person who is bi-polar.
When Robru says
"I am never able to understand how anyone could get so low as to take their own life. Society has much to answer for when it has moved away from the friendly neighbor attitudes of past times to our current throw away style of living. Is life so cheap?"
It is not so much the lack of friendly neighbour attitudes, it is far more the loss of extended families, the rise of individualism, the pressures which force individuals to be self-sufficent and so on. In early times, such as the Victorian era, as many suicides happened, most due to economic pressures like bankruptcy which was held to be a vile immoral act, prison being the inevitable legal outcome, scorn and ostracisation being the social one. Suicide was the only 'civilized' way out, the 'gentlemanly' and socially acceptable thing to do. Today, all that is nonesense for most of us.
Kirio |
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