the words of a suicide
poetic pronouncements
swathed in potential blood
testament to truth
clouded over by
schizophrenia views
of love and longing.
I push a rag
against the screen
hoping to stop the flow
of angst imagery
holding blue knuckle tight
least my own wrists
contact the knife like
nouns and verbs.
I am empathy
a good Samaritan unhorsed
over a sister stricken
on a lonely street
arms always open
set to sooth
a voyeur saint
weeping for the dead.
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