Assisted suicide: a Valentine’s Day poem about love


No need to load the bullet

Or knot the rope

I’m gone already

If I found knowing, then what is this?

What ignorance, tormented

If I found life, then what is this?

What else did I find?

The room and the keys

A vision of what will, what could


But everyone sang

In chorus

Come, see like us

Come, love like us

Come, know like us

I stayed beside the room

And waited

For you and your key

And now what?

What am I to do?

But stand outside the room

I have a key

I even know where the door is

But it’s closed for good

And now everyone who

Sees me scratching at the door


“Poor fucker’s gone mad!”

But it’s not madness

Is it?



Written for a different age.

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