Mother’s Day

I’m standing in the kitchen, fixing a meal as usual

Peanut butter and jelly, nothing special but suitable

A midnight prowl to quiet the stomach growls

I grab some milk, pop the top but it smells foul

“Fucking gross” I close the fridge in disgust

Heavy coughing as I go to the sink in a rush

Drying off I look to the living room space with a glance

I catch a glimpse of my mother, face in her hands

“You okay?” I question, pausing for a second

No answer, but I bet she can barely form a sentence

The way she’s weeping it dries up my throat

My eyes tear up, I try not to cry and approach

She yells at the top of her lungs “WHY’D YOU DO IT?”

I step back startled and said “Do what? What am I doing?”

She fails to reply and now I’m beginning to panic

I must have pissed her off for her to be this manic

I try to think back but I can’t say for sure

I can’t remember yesterday or the day before

I go to comfort her, should have tried that sooner

Reach out but my arms phase right through her

“Mom!” I scream terrified, grabbing my head

It feels matted and wet, I’m dragging out lead

That’s when it all flashes back like the barrel of the hand-cannon,

I used to turn my brain to mush because I couldn’t manage

“I’m so sorry, I love you, mom look at me please!

Forgive me for what I’ve done, I was the enemy”

What a horrible mistake, this isn’t what I wanted

For me to turn to a ghost and my mom to be haunted

The audible agony, I can tell she’s given up

She’ll always feel like her son didn’t live enough

She’ll live thinking it’s her fault and live with the trauma too

Because I killed myself but I think I killed my momma too

Now I’m stuck to watch her suffer and emotionally bleed

I’m so full of regret, in death I was supposed to be freed


I knew I wanted to die by the age of seventeen

Lost my faith in God and everything in between

Slept through all my classes, at lunch I sat alone

Hated myself, went into isolation at home

Met a girl over the summer, had an optimistic start

But a few months later she left me ripped apart

Felt I had no one to talk to, I just bottled it inside

Shut everyone out instead of swallowing my pride

Researched how to do it until the day finally came

Only to find out that nothing would ever change

It still leaves a heart filled with violence

Suicide isn’t a cure, it just spreads the virus

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Bouquet of Thorns