Sunday, February 9, 2025

Suicide in NYC

 1.

A train rushes past—
no one sees the thoughts I hold
tighter than the rail.

2.
Four a.m. skyline.
So much light, so much silence—
I feel none of it.

3.
Alone on the bridge,
my name echoes with the wind—
nothing calls it back.

4.
The crowd does not stop.
But one man looked at my face—
then the light turned green.

5.
Even the pigeons
seem to know I don’t belong—
still, they don’t leave me.

6.
A closed rooftop door—
I sit with the thought awhile,
then take the stairs down.

7.
Rain on my shoulders,
I walk as if I matter—
it almost feels true.

8.
Subway ads promise
therapy I can’t afford—
I just close my eyes.

9.
A note in my phone.
No one has read it but me—
and that might be fine.

10.
In Times Square’s bright noise,
no one hears the quiet cry
beneath all the light.

11.
My voicemail is full.
But none of the names I want
have left their voices.

12.
The East River shines.
I wonder what it would hold—
if I handed it me.

13.
A stranger said “hey.”
I almost cried at the word—
how soft it arrived.

14.
She sat beside me
on the bench without a word—
it saved everything.

15.
Even this city
doesn’t see everyone here—
but I still exist.

16.
Sirens in the dark—
a sound I once feared, now miss
for how it arrived.

17.
The building is tall.
But I don’t look down today—
clouds feel closer now.

18.
I delete the draft—
my goodbye meant for no one—
and choose breakfast instead.

19.
The mirror blinks back—
not beautiful, but still here—
and that’s enough now.

20.
I text “Are you home?”
You say yes, without knowing
you just pulled me back.

21.
Buskers on the train—
their voice shakes the sorrow loose
I didn’t confess.

22.
I sleep on the floor.
The bed feels too permanent—
still, I wake again.

23.
Someone asks, “You good?”
and waits for the actual truth—
I say, “Not today.”

24.
One sunflower grows
through the concrete by the curb—
some things bloom anyway.

25.
Tomorrow exists.
I don't believe it fully—
but I still wait there.

(If you or someone you know is struggling, you're not alone. In the U.S., you can reach the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline anytime by calling or texting 988.)

No comments:

Post a Comment

Faith Renewed

 The cathedral didn’t fall in a night. It went stone by stone, a quiet heist of the heart, until the ribs of the vault were just bleached bo...