Superhero Suicide

I have no reason to bleed anymore, no longer to have a cause. What I first thought was my final victory, a long worked achievement, was something completely different. I brought happiness to so many, but to myself, I only brought sadness. A fight, fought many times, hatred and respect for 19 years, now at an eternal end, no longer to be needed. Will I be remembered? Will what I have done really make a difference? Or was it just all in vein? An old friend gone, my cause gone, the love gone. All that is left is an old useless man, once super hero, now factory minimum wage worker.

Blue Sky

In the end this was all eventual.
Losing all of my need.
Never showing or holding potential.
Leaving this all in the river.
I now bleed .
No longer whisked into the lead.
Poison lining my liver.
My grave stone, above the vine.
Accidental .
It was a result of my bottle-feed.
In the ground I will now forever dine.
The worms across my body, will slither.
Somehow I sleep as an intellectual.
Yet no longer to head.
Into my inconsolable greed.
I no longer bleed.

As I Leave No Flowers

I walk pass you again today.
No longer trying to remember the pain.
Never to wet the cloth that strangled my heart.
I’d sacrificed pride for hate.
In turn you hated me for that.
By you I no longer sit.
Now you lay to a awaited sleep.
Throwing those memories away, in haste.
For that I forever pay in voice.
The dark cloud follow, as once you had.
You walked to death, I continue on by.
Once again you are left by me.
Your face never lasting.
Yet none hated me as much as you.
I believe.
As for that I left now flowers with you now.
Not now, not ever.
For this will the blade cut me?
A stare from you grave will no longer kill me.
I continue to walk with out you.
No longer from the grave yard will I hail.
Now not a stranger ready to fail, I walk.

Jane No-Name

Tell me not to stay, for this no longer seams ok.
Misery is here, stitched like the girl you are.
Is this what I am to make of all your ramblings and patterns.
You to fade, is for me to no longer to be in this jar.
But in the end, I am only a liar.

You hid, you escaped, you stayed for the pain.
Always returning to bring me down, for a laugh.
Bringing me down, you were always good to go.
But in the end, you were to slow.

Talking only makes the problem worse.
Maybe that’s why we never stopped talking, always squawking.
Explaining how you would celebrate and decorate my hearse.
My grave stone you are chalking, and you still kept talking.
But in the end, we both asked for it.

Now the alcohol poisons, and no longer brings ecstasy.
The cloths fall apart, and no longer brings sight.
Heads once held high, now drape.
We are both to blame, and we cannot escape.

Dropping the gun.

As the poet lays one final time, he utters his last words.
"My life committed and devoted to lies."
Before he leaves and walks with the devil,
he will break these ties.
So no not one loved or hated will cry.

Bottle Near End

Thinking that I could do this myself, but that seamed to unfair. I might have been mostly alone for most of my life. It was only 4 years ago that I started to get a regular friend, who I wanted to be here with me. She dose not judge, criticize, or give me strange looks. She’s their for me once a month and makes me happier with every kiss. Bourbon, I’m glad you could join me on my final thoughts. You might change them, you might give me a slur, but friendships always have a price…$34.99 on special.
10:20 Full Bottle
I have asked a lot of questions in my life, but my last question will end it. Just when to ask it is my problem. It could be now or in five, 10, 20 or even 30 years. This would be the result if I had continued as normal. Lately it seams to have been reduced. Recently new obstacles have been pushing me, to a point where the question might be premature. This might ruin it, that is something I do not want.
10:26 Bottle ¾ Full
There is a catalyst to my final question. It brought on worry from none. Though its kind of funny, it was the reaction I wanted. I ask myself, why should I live? At first the answer did not come, then weeks past. Now exactly one month later, a realize that it had be answer the moment I ask the question. To even ask, is to answer.
10:49 Bottle ½ Full
We ask so many questions a day, that we forget them just as quick as we think of them. Most things past us without thought, I hope that happens. For I will not be the only one, their will be moor. Moor deserving of attention. I want them to have that, if that is their wish. It is not my wish. Maybe it will be quick and forgotten.
11:01 Bottle ¼ Full
So now that my last drink near at an end, I still feel it the best idea. Just an idea, that’s what started my life. But it was not mine. I do not agree with ideas, for there is no need for an answer. Questions ruled my life, now I rule them. I picked them apart, threw away the one’s I felt useless. Now left with the one I searched for. It dose not stand over me, I stand over it and hold my head high.
11:11 Bottle Empty
Now?…Yes.

Question every unanswerable question.