Perhaps she didn't know...

This piece is dedicated to all the women and people who have given up on life because they are overwhelmed, beaten, and broken. Each line is an indication of how cold death is and fruitful life can be. As awareness for suicide prevention and to the loved ones lost to the hurtful choice of suicide, I dedicate this with love. There is more to live for. If only she knew how precious she is and how the world needs her, death would never be her choice. Sisters, let's be the hope and help of the silent and depressed today. 

As pale as the snow,

She was dumbfounded,

The clanging of metal did nothing to alert her.

 

Perhaps she didn't know...

Her writing hand dripping with thick redness laid on the cold mirroring tiles of such masterpiece,

As if, between life and death; her hand became the obstruct,

Between the in and out of a pulley.

 

If only she knew...

That her modern receiver had a call coming,

A long-awaited call from a mother she thought had forsaken her.

 

If only she knew...

Her companion to join in pulley ride,

Would be her ticket to financial freedom,

Her sigh of joy, after years of marauding the streets of gold,

Seeking bread for her belly.

 

As her veins ebbed torrents of blood on the cold floor,

Her eyes pierced straight ahead,

At the minions of humans in numbers,

Rushing, rancorous and raging,

At a scene so gruesome,

At a beauty fading away.

 

Perhaps she didn't know...

Perhaps she did,

Was she impatient like a restless dog in heat?

Did she get tired too quickly?

Thinking the only way out was…

A journey to breathlessness?

As her alter ego looked down

Upon the lifeless frame caked in pure red liquid,

She sees the astonishment of life,

It all suddenly clicks!

 

The calls she ached for,

The relevance she toiled in pain to attain,

A love she thought was lost,

Everything was always there, waiting for the 11th hour to strike!

In the smoke of her fading shadow,

It's all clear; she feels the sting.

Oh death, there lies your sting.

 

Perhaps, if she had tarried just a little longer,

Perhaps, if she didn't let it all get in the way.

The hurtful blame and anger,

The very demons that destroyed her destiny till she demised.

 

She had more to live for,

There was more worth waiting for.

 

To lift the spirits of many on this path, a sister, Rachel Ouellette, has given me An amazing piece called Dream Again by Matthew West.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXDsFtODgqM  

Listen, be lifted make the right choice. 

This piece is written in response to HEALING THROUGH ART.