Suicide
A word that is looked down on for being cowardice.
A word that people shun.
You try to tell people how your brother died, and they try to hush you like he was some kind of murderer, whose name shouldn't be mentioned.
Suicide.
A word people look at as the answer, or the only escape.
The truth is, it's not the answer.
The answer is your mother and father.
It's your brother or sister, your husband or wife, your cousins, or your children.
It's your favorite tv show that hasn't finished airing yet because it just got renewed for another season.
It's your favorite artist releasing an album that you haven't heard yet.
It's the fact that you're two months away from a full year at your job for the first time in your life.
The answer isn't a rope, or a blade, or even those pills.
The answer is every little thing that makes your life worth living.
The sun will set without you in the morning, but you will be the one to miss its beauty.
People will forget you, but those who mattered will remember you forever.
You may think that nobody will notice but your sister will think about you every time she walks past your empty bedroom.
Your pain will go away, but it will spread across your hometown like an epidemic, causing heartache on the lived you touched.
Nobody's life will be easier.
Your mother will cry herself to sleep every night for the rest of her life.
Your father will distance himself from the rest of the family.
Fixing temporary problems with permanent solutions is not the answer.
The answer is whatever the hell keeps you alive.
YOU ARE READING
Radiant Sorrows
PoetryA collection of my poems. Hope you enjoy. <3 Trigger warning; There is no telling the things that will end up in this story. Be prepared for suicidal thoughts, self-harm, depression, death, grieving, and drug use.
