To Hell With It.

Someone will tell me quite soon
that I will be in big trouble.
I will probably smile
and say "What more can you do?"

I have little left to lose,
most of it is already gone.
"We will sue you", they say.
Be my guest and get a clue.

I own nothing, no assets,
no bank account and no income;
Really, what more can you take
There's not much left to pursue.

"We'll arrest you for stalking."
Okay, where is your court order 
Show me that, I'll be gone.
Press me hard enough, I'm through.

It's quite hard to do too much 
to those who've lost almost all,
when self-esteem and self-worth
have both been long since removed.

Try to hurt me yet again
It won't get you very far
I'll decide to end it all
make the plan and say adieu.

So, screw you.

P.S. The last line is intended for the Washington DC folks not the local folks.

Had Enough

All I want is hope.
I can't seem to buy it.
Looking everywhere
finding less than none.


It almost seems like 
someone is against me
trying to hurt me
just for their own fun.


Everything I try
to get help for myself
doesn't seem to work;
I'm coming undone.


Why won't anything
go right for me these days?
Everything I do
seems to get me shunned.


I'm giving up now;
I've really had enough.
No one wants me here
so I say I'm done.

Silence

Silence...

A welcome sound.

Peace, when it's needed most.

Death, your arms reach out to grasp me.

...I'm here.

Take me...

I want to leave.

Life's sharp needles murder...

Sitting inside me just waiting...

Waiting...

Fall, 1973

Is Anybody There?

They say you're the professionals,
the ones I'm supposed to trust.
If you can help me I haven't seen it yet.
All we've done is paperwork
So  far it's been a bust.


I looked for help cause I'm depressed,
want to commit suicide
You won't even let me say the word aloud;
too much trouble I suppose.
You take it all in stride.


When do we get to therapy?
It has been quite awhile.
The medication has not started to work
I'm as depressed as I was
I'm feeling quite as vile.


When do I get some help from you?
What is it I have to do?
I'm still thinking about how to kill myself;
I still know how I'll do it
and when I'll bid adieu. 


How, when do I get through to you?
I've been trying to tell you;
you don't want to hear what I have been saying
so do I have to scream it
or just carry it through?

Down Then Out

Hopelessness by itself
is bad enough
but when followed by
a temporary reprieve
that is ripped away
without any warning,
it seems a weight
beyond bearing.

Worthlessness is somber
also perhaps
unrealistic.
But it's the darkest,
blackest and deepest pit;
bottomless hole,
so despairing.

Depression feels endless
or so it seems.
It envelopes, chokes;
it asphyxiates
soul without sensation;
only sadness,
all unsparing.

Salvation can be found
in strange places:
working on a cause
gives off oxygen,
breathing is easier
when you're busy,
when there's caring.