Why?
Please read the note before reading this poem.
Why?
The word sticks
In the back of his mind
As his hands shake and fumble
To complete the task he’s taken on.
Why couldn’t he ever be enough?
Why?
Somewhere in the back
Of his mind a metronome
Begins ticking away, slow
And steady, funny how it
Seems to tick to the pattern
Of his heart.
Why couldn’t they just understand?
Why?
The metronome
Continues to tick
As each click of the
Little golden bullets
Sliding into the chamber
Of the revolver rings out.
It picks up sped now, and he
Finds it so odd that each tick is
Syncopated, perfectly timed to the
Beating of his heart. Tick tick, tick tick.
Why couldn’t he notice the girls like every
Normal fucking kid in school?
Why?
His heart is beating
So loud now, he expects
It to drown out the insistent
Ticking of hat stupid metronome
But it doesn’t, and the two sounds
Continue to beat in time with each other
Like an aggravating song you can’t get out
Of your head.
Why did those baggy hand-me-down basketball
Shorts never feel quite as good on him as the silky
Smooth texture of a satin dress?
Why?
The ticking hasn’t stopped
And he suddenly realizes it’s
Not a metronome, but instead
the six inch heel of his high-heeled
Boot tapping consistently in time with
His heart against the hardwood floor.
Why was he born with body parts
That didn’t fit what he saw inside?
Why?
The feeling of the cold
Steely barrel presses
Against his temple.
His eyes close
His breath hitches
And the silence
Overcomes him.
The only sound
Left in the room
Is the deliberate
thumping of his
Heart, and the
Matching TickTick
Of his heeled boot.
Now suddenly calm
And ready, he stands
And waits, and then it comes...
BANG!!!!
His body falls limply
To the ground, the gun
Clattering against the hardwood
His mother runs in screaming for someone
Anyone to help
A small child no older than six
Stands in the doorway, her eyes
Swimming with tears.
Confused and unsure
She stands there unmoving
Staring down at her brother’s
Lifeless body.
Why?
Months pass.
His six year old
Sister drowns in
Their backyard
Pool because his
Mother is too busy
Replaying old home
Videos while simultaneously
Blasting his favorite
CDs to hear her quiet
Calls for help, and his father
Is out drinking again.
Why can’t they just understand
It’s not their fault?
Why?
His father eventually
Leaves his mother because
She refuses to get up and move on
Why did he have to do that to them?
Why?
On the year anniversary
of his death, his mother stands
In the bathroom and slits her own wrists.
As the blood spills over and her life fades out
The words ring through time and space
Why didn’t I just think things through?
His eyes fly open
Startled by the sound
Of his mother’s screams
Growing louder as she
Approaches him swiftly
Wrapping her arms around
Him in a vice grip.
The gun slips from his hand and
Falls to the ground and she pulls back
With his face now held between her hands
In a tender manner, she looks him in the eye
And asks one simple question...
Why?
(2014)
TRIGGER WARNING: This poem contains words and events that may be harmful or triggering to some viewers. Please consider this as you read.
This poem is not specifically about me, however I did pull from some personal experiences to make it what it is.
#EmotionalSecondSuicide #Thoughts #Transgender
Liked or faved by...
