This poem from Writings for Winter, is not an easy read.  It touches upon the struggle of debating suicide.  This poem may have a number of interpretations, and it is up to the reader to determine what it means to you.

So You Want To Kill Yourself

I thought leaving you would be easy,

but the first time our scars were introduced,

they shook hands and made a blood pact

not to lose one another again.

You wanted to kill yourself.

I showed up at your house at 2 am with a bouquet

of flowers and for every second you didn’t,

I tore off another petal.

You wanted to kill yourself.

I pretended to be the operator on a suicide hotline,

and we practiced how to make you stay.

You wanted to kill yourself.

I held you up like a moth to the light

and counted all your cracks, then filled them in

with my tongue.

You wanted to kill yourself.

You wanted to kill yourself.

You wanted to kill yourself.

You wanted to kill yourself.

I didn’t let you.

End of story.

Image Credit
Feature: Rebecca Murphey at flickr