Font Color=darkvioletcloset Poem by Jane Meyer

There’s something in my closet,
that you wouldn’t find in most.
In it is a sleek black rope,
that’s hanging from a post.

In the rope there is a knot,
tying off a loop, sturdy and strong.
I slip it around my neck,
because my life has all gone wrong.

I lift my feet up off the ground,
and I struggle in midair.
I think about my life,
and how it’s caused me much despair.

I think about the pain,
both in my head and out.
as the rope constricts my breath,
not even enough to shout.

I hang there, twirling,
like that ride with the spinning cup.
As I begin to lose my consciousness,
my body’s forced to just stand up.

I try and try again,
but whenever my vision starts to fade,
my survival instincts take over.
Can’t hang myself. It’s how I’m made.