ots. too happy to care. sorry this sucks zackk.

on the day i tried to kill myself there was no one home. mom had church, girlfriend was working at pete's coffeshop, and dad was out east doing whatever my imagination could make me proud of. hadnt talked to him for eleven years and i just found the parents divorce papers. wrote songs about killing for love. lay on a carpet floor in the morning and if i didnt know any better i swear the clouds were already trying to talk me down. but i was on the up and up, popping anti-depressants and clawing at my chest with nails filed so they would draw blood.

here's the thing about suicide. the second you believe that you are capable of it you start to think its the only thing you are capable of. but you're scared that you'll do it if you don't get your act together. and how can you get your act together when you have people to love you and care for you. its a catch 22- you act and you know the wind will split you in half, you stay put and you know you'll rot real literally. so you do the thing that keeps you whole and start to hurt yourself, daily getting deeper, externalizing the insides into the insides. and then you see the mirror you broke with your fist and an old knife that josh bought you sophomore year at your throat.

and your throat isnt your throat anymore so on the day i tried to kill off the worst part of me by killing all of me it didnt hurt. people dont understand that your blood can stop being your blood real easy. have you ever seen a surgeon cut his finger to the bone? its like that. it's all like that.

see, the thing
is and your
throat suicide
on the day
23rd july
2009 well fuck you
god i am you
god and i'm living
glad i'm still living
new girl whose belimic
new friend whose father raped her
while sleeping or
almost asleep watching filtered
new york city lightscape
burn all night
watch it all
burn all night
with a star in my smile
snuck down with a net
made from my own skin and bone
here's the thing about suicide. first time you go through it you realize how absurd it is to believe you're ever truly alone.

no no no, god, not alone.
Wow, extremely personal and very raw. Not bogged down by language at all. I loved the line of "doing whatever my imagination could make me proud of". It's such a true statement. I do like your writing style. Very comfortable to read, although a tough subject it wasn't too deep to get turned off by.
Wow, that actually brought a tear to my eye. Its beautiful, and sad. The reality of this peice hits you, and hard. I honestly hope this gets WotW, because this peice is just amazing. Every single word fits perfectly, It's just so... wow.

I really liked the first verse, it felt perfectly balanced between effusive wanderings and superficial diary entries. The only bit that irked me was the final sentence, where you crossed the line from casually emotive, to ott dramatics. I realise that's a little inconsiderate to say, since this is your life pouring out in front of me, but I'm just trying to be honest. I KNOW you can appreciate that.

The following verse, though, really didn't click with me at all. The sentences stumbled over each other and, even though there normally cab be an idea or theme developed from a method or approach, nothing stuck with me, and that was disappointing. When reading it, there was this constant urge to skip through it, because of it's ill-conceived flow and departure from anything poetic and fluid. And I hate when that happens as I feel like I'm disrespecting the writer by missing out on something important to him or her. I realise WHY you maybe chose to layer it so that it reads more like a diary than a poem, but I don't appreciate that at this case.

The third verse went straight over my head. I didn't understand the metaphor (if it was a metaphor at all), and it wasn't until the last three words that I started to regain discernment and perceptiveness for what you were writing.

But I believe it was 'too late' by that point - the rest of the poem just filtered through me and didn't leave any lasting remembrance of importance. And that's a shame because you obviously wrote this from your heart, as you always do.
Quote by #1 synth
dad was out east doing whatever my imagination could make me proud of.

great line.

The diary style does make it a little hard going, but theres a nice butterflies/kick to the stomach feeling about 2/3rds of the way in.
Its good to end up on a positive note. Makes a reader feel really glad that you realised whatever it was that you needed to realise.
--------------------i'm definitely the alphaest male here--------------------
this breaks my heart in more ways than i want to admit. your writing lately has been hitting my nerves unbelievably, i have 'death is certain, love is probable' scribbled on my wall, hope you don't mind. anyway, yeah, you deserve this.
Mind. Blown.
Truly inspired.
Good job man.
"Love everything. Know nothing."

"What do you mean 'do you even know how to play bongo drums?'?! Do I not have hands?! And pot?!"
powerful piece

have you ever seen a surgeon cut his finger to the bone? its like that. it's all like that.
Reaching for the sun
one may forget
the feet which
ground him