Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
my sister used to tell me, “Life is
a journey without a finish line. Some may fall
by the wayside, but get up and keep on trying.”

on the good days, i can be twelve again
and crouched outside her door
and hear her asking God to give her a sign
that he was listening, goddammit, anything.
on the bad days, i can look back and i still won’t
be able to tell you when she lost her faith in

the thing about suicide is that
people can tell you they love you
and they can tell you that they’d miss you,
but suicide is selfish. no one can talk down
a bomb. they just have to let it explode
and deal with the aftermath.

here is how i end and it’s in bangs and it’s in whimpers
and it’s in two o’clock unanswered phone
calls and all the scissors we’re not allowed
to keep in our house anymore.
it’s in being stretched out like a trampoline over too
many people and snapping because i care too goddamn
much about people who don’t care enough
about me.
it’s in late night screams that say, “no, you need
to stay here,” and “ but i can’t stay”, but are really saying
“why can’t you just be happy?” and “but i never was.”

when i was thirteen i tried to pray every night
but i was always afraid that God would answer me
in a way he never did my sister.
at some point, you know, you gotta try to believe
in something, even if it’s just that
love exists or that you’re going to grow up to be fifty
or that siblings should always be treated equally
or that you’re not worthy

this is what it feels like to explode.
i’m alone and shaking apart
at invisible seams that replicate themselves
on my big sister’s baby blanket,
i’m alone  fifty-one miles out in nowhere, broken down
in a car that never really worked right, trying to convince
myself that i want to go home.

i learned how to drive when i was fifteen
and i’ve been making too many mistakes
for my hands not to shake when i get behind the wheel.
someone i used to know once told me,
“life is the highway and your destination is sitting at
the end and we’ll all get there one day.”

my sister baked cupcakes the day before she
killed herself, like she needed to make
the world a better place even as she left it.
no one touched them until they were stale.
it’s funny to think that most all of our prayers
go unanswered.

let’s have a race and see who can make it there first.
i just...couldn't. not these last few days, i think i jinxed it when i said i was happy.

(she's not actually dead. they're still screaming at each other every night and day. i always thought it were parents who were supposed to fight.)
Add a Comment:
tiajones Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
SilverInkblot Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hi there! I've used the title of this piece in a poem for my Found Poetry Project Heart
FallingAngel22 Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Well,I've found a new obsession to get me through winter break... Your poetry 
ghearradh Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2013
the third stanza, wow. it's amazing. all of this is amazing.
successwithhonor Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2013  Student Writer
it kind of saddens me that this incites the preachiness in people, particularly pertaining to the subject of god. you said all that should be, and my god, it's the most beautiful, haunting, human thing i've ever had brush against my lips.

"no one can talk down
a bomb. they just have to let it explode
and deal with the aftermath. 

my sister baked cupcakes the day before
like she needed to make the world a better place 
even as she left it. no one touched them until they were stale.
it’s funny to think that most all of our prayers
go unanswered."

suicide is a terrible, awful, freeing monster. this left the taste of iron in my mouth.
i needed it. thank you
LadyOfSilver Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
This is seriously one of the best poems I have read on here. It is so sad, yet so beautiful. It has a realistic feel to it. Like some sort of a confession. I love this. Seriously, this is really amazing.
analillithbar Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Although it hurts; it hurts go through our own struggles; hurts to see, to feel, those we love hurt, if we let it, everything passes. I'm not sure who you mean in your comments when you say, "they're" still screaming at each other every night. But you have to know, sometimes we choose our hell... better the devil you know, kind of thing. Life, belief, getting through. These things are not always about faith. Faith in God, ourselves or humanity. Faith is about knowing that all things end.

I had a cousin, and more than one friend, that killed themselves in one way or another and, you are right: Suicide is selfish. But some people just do not have the inner fortitude to tough it out.

Whatever keeps you believing love will prevail, I hope you find it.

analillithbar Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
sorry for the type-o's... this really hit a heartstring.
StOnEsOnG Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Faith is the thing that keeps us breathing when the weight on our shoulders is too much. Have faith; God never gives us more than we can handle with His help.
Add a Comment:

:iconmisfitablegrae: More from MisfitableGrae

Featured in Collections

All The Poets Come To Life by flummo

Literature by nuisances

II by AyeAye12

More from DeviantArt


Submitted on
November 24, 2013
File Size
2.5 KB


38 (who?)