To Be (triggering material)

[Clopen]

To fumble through "life" utterly hollow,
To ever in pain and agony wallow,
To view the world in shades of black,
To only see the things I lack.

To gain accolades of meaning devoid,
To fake a smile while feeling the void,
To wear a mask for others to like,
To fear the torment that always does strike.

To know that inside me there is nothing left,
To learn I'd been born already bereft,
To find my woes stem from within, not without,
To hope every day just to somehow hold out.

To be the person that they all expect,
To lie to my friends and my secret protect,
To lie to myself, saying they'd understand,
To try and see friendships crumble to sand.

To be crowded by friends and still be alone,
To have their support yet remain on my own,
To gain gratitude and be everyone's hero,
To gauge my own worth to be much less than zero.

To get the first call when they need a hand,
To not be on the list when they seek a friend,
To be commonly seen as of the elite,
To scarcely be thought of when they save a seat.

To try to fit in but still feel cast out,
To sit by myself, to cry, frown and pout,
To gaze and to wonder as to why I'm still here,
To take my own life with my first smile sincere.

---------------------------------------------------------

I've recently discovered that people can't handle being told about suicidal thoughts.
Even if they say they can, even if they've had them themselves - they just can't.
My wish to end my own life has not waned in a decade, and probably never will, but there's not a soul with whom I can talk about it.
My hope is that people here will be able to have such a conversation without starting to panic.
The poem above is one I wrote a couple of weeks ago.
My reasons for writing it have not changed since.
I hope for death, yearn for it - but so I have been hoping and yearning for a very, very long time.
I don't think I'll ever really do anything about it, but the people in my life can't see that.

[fallen]

you can talk to me if you wish about suicide, having been there.
but there are lots of people on here who are very nice who you may find more of a connection.
take care

[xll3]

Is it weird that I loved your poem and that you described how i feel... I wish i could write like that. I get frustrated everytime i grab a pen...and afraid of someone reading it, and changing their perception of me. That perception that ive worked for so hard and yet loose it all in one second. I hope you keep writing id love to keep reading.

[Clopen]

Thank you.
I do have some other things I've written.
I'll post some more.

[4EverMe]

Hi Clopen,
This is 4EverMe. I'm a poet myself and very picky about my writing. I will also admit that I'm critical of other people's poetry. Your poem? Beautiful! VERY well written and is publishable. Some of mine have been published. (a couple I won in contests). You REALLY need to look into publishing your poety Clopen. Great work...
Further more, I'm very sorry for the pain you're feeling in all of those ways. I feel for you and do relate in various ways to what you expressed! Thankyou for sharing your writing with us. PLEASE call a suicide hotline or go to the ER if you get to the brink of ending your life. You are a person of MUCH worth Clopen. Christ didn't suffer and die for EACH of us because we're "worthless." He would have done that for you if you were the only one on the face of this earth. I'm not afraid to discuss suicide if you need to talk. Please take care of yourself Clopen. You're WORTH IT!!

[Frame]

Hi Clopen:

A few thoughts:

I think this is a safe place to talk about suicide, especially our struggle against it. Let's face it most everyone here touches it at least tangentially. It's just NOT OK to plan it here.

I don't think I'll ever speak about it to close friends; I have no illusions they'd stay close for long. They'll either get you fixed up and be on their way or, Oh heck to Hell with the fixing we're outta here. I did mention it to my General Practitioner because I had a strong sense that he wouldn't act on the knowledge, that he felt his primary role was as a resource.

He made me promise that if I ever felt like acting on those feelings I would head to an emergency room. I know I'm strong enough to make it through that turmoil and so I intend to keep that promise. It's one extra layer. I know if I ever really decide that's my path, that I'll keep that promise, make it through with resolve, and had his gift of one last chance. So it's something to consider. Finding someone objective and respectful, someone you respect who will ask you to make that promise.

About your poems I'm with the crowd; I think it's beautiful. And something I found interesting, something I hadn't heard clearly here before. If I go in for stereotypes I'd say this group is deep thinking, competent, and intelligent; OK you said elite. But the word rings true and that's not all; I think your poem voices a certain loneliness of wisdom.

Leaders ultimately must keep there own council and shoulder the responsibility by themselves, if not then they're not really leaders. It's hard. It hurts. Not all of us can be leaders, but perhaps a few more of us can be wise. I think knowledge is sobering and there is a certain sadness in wisdom. There is also dignity, respect, and loneliness; perhaps also destiny, achievement, and love. Your poem (Am I reading to much into it? I think not.) seems to sing these notes.

Thank you.