June 10, 2012
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One hundred feet beneath the surface
My last breath escapes me.
I think of where I’ve been,
What I’ve done.
Fifteen years. Was that enough?
Am I to die now,
Never having known
My own story?
Why am I here, what have I done?
The light is fading, yet
Grows brighter.
My life while dying
Grows stronger...
I can see myself
As a child.

My dad picks me up,
Flying me high in the air.
I am jubilant.

My crush leans forward,
Planting his lips upon mine.
A happy moment.

He runs far away,
Searching for another home
To replace our own.

I catch up to him
“My brother, why do you run?”
He doesn’t answer.

Later, I get it.
Our mother stands as a threat.
Home is our prison.

The years are passing,
Each day a new shade of grey.
It won’t get better.

I try to make friends,
But I always run away,
Afraid to commit.

So I sit alone
Wondering why I’m lonely
Everywhere I go.

The next memory
I could almost call pleasant
If I hadn’t jumped.

The water reflects
The bright afternoon sunlight
Beneath the stone bridge.

One hundred feet beneath the surface,
My last breath escapes me.
I’ve thought of where I’ve been
And what I’ve done.
Fifteen years was not enough.
I am dying,
Without having been happy
For more than a moment.
Yet I don’t kick to the surface.
I can’t bear to go back.
I know why I’m here,
I know what I’ve done.
I wanted to jump, so I did.
And my memories weren’t enough
To make me want to live.

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