Suicide. Do Or Die Poem by Eric Campbell. This Sunday, enjoy this deep poem by a great author, Yareah readers.
At 12 years old I was contemplating suicide. I get silent when those conversations do arise
I was thinking do or die, because each day felt like being crucified
Who am i?
A boy who’s every breath rips him piece by piece. This boy has never left but he keeps his peace. A smile always graced my face because why bother others with my issues. Living this life lie day by day knowing it was misused. Oh well.
Maybe 15 months went by because I was stalling. In the dark of my bedroom is the only time tears were falling. And I felt like a failure because I knew I had a calling that I was about to just neglect. I’d self reflect. Let me press reset. Life’s a roller coaster? Let me press eject. The devil should get commission cause he sold me on it. No problem with commitment you could hold me on it.
The day came and it hurt as usual. The first time I found the pain to be beautiful. I didn’t copy down the homework in class, instead I put my actual assignment. A project I gave myself. I would finally grave myself. I’ve had this rope in my closet for some time now. I had thought it all out. So I wrote it down in my agenda.
I did this in every class. I took all my books home knowing it would be my last. Plus I didn’t need my mom to have to do it after I go through it. But it’s like she knew it…
That day on the way home she asked me for my agenda. I told her I couldn’t find it. Thought she would never mind it. She pulled over in the middle of Jamaica Queens asking what the hell I mean. She saw what I had written. I told her it was fiction but she wasn’t trying to listen. How was I to know she cared. Didn’t seem like it. She said it’s not fair but my dreams liked it. My only way to escape as anger and tears took over her face. My brothers were in the back seat. She made me look at them and asked me if I love them. My life was them.. they were the reason I waited 15 months. They were 5 and 3 during this. They cured the sick. The sole reason for any bit of joy in me. My Sole. My therapy. They gave me the strength to go on. Not just to prolong. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here today and because of them I’m here to stay. My resurrection. It took a long time to kill the idea instead of it killing me. The love from my brothers is still in me. That is love. That is life.