The Phone Pole


The phone pole.
Each day driving home,
I see it.
Standing tall,
While I slump.

Each day it tempts again:
Sweet peace.

Each day I cry again:
I can’t,
What if,
I fail?

Terror within,
Is not if I die,
But if I don’t.

I used to drive by this power pole on the way home from school each day. Often I would dream of driving into it. The church, my family, my friends, the value of my life, none of that held me back. Just the possibility of surviving and then having to deal with a mangled body. I’m glad that did the trick.

Note: This was years ago and I no longer experience suicidal ideation.


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