Alone

This is a poem, a note, a letter, a declaration to all those who have been alone.

I want you to know, that I’ve been alone too. I’ve been there. To that darkest region. To that deepest part. To the edge. Where its only you. Where nothing is left.

I want you to know that I’ve been alone. And when you are alone, I am alone with you.

I want you to know, that when you’ve stood on that subway platform, contemplating your slight bend forward. Contemplating if your entire body will spin when the train hits your head or if your body will fall off balance and onto the tracks. Contemplating if its better to jump long before the train reaches you or to jump right when it’s in front of you. Debating if you’ll only get a concussion or if you truly will end it all.

I want you to know, that when you’ve done all the research. When you’ve figured out a way to purchase a gun or to get a hold of a gun. I want you to know, that when you’ve finally reached that point. When you are sitting alone. And only you and a winter cascade or summer breeze encompasses what’s left of your life. When you sit with the gun in your lap and you debate if you’ll pull the trigger of the gun with the barrel in your mouth or aside your temple. I want you to know, that when you are alone at the moment, I’ve been alone with you.

I want you to know, that when you’ve been to the base of a large bridge. When you figured out a pathway to reach the highest point. When you calculated the time it would take to get up on top. When you realized you’d have to wear layers of clothing to make sure you’d be warm enough on top to have a collective thought to jump. I want you to know if you’ve made it to the bridge’s end. And you were looking up. Just about to climb. And you thought nothing was left. No hope, no love, no friends, no enemies. When nothing but water surrounded your echo below. I want you to know that when you are alone at that moment, I’ve been with you.

I want you to know, that when you’ve had a knife near. When you’ve rid yourself of a mobile phone. When you’ve swallowed the car key after you’ve driven yourself out to a remote area. When there was no direction and no exit. When you were about to gorge yourself. So your pain was so vivid you’d hope you’d wake up from the nightmare of life. And at that very moment you pick up and carry on. And walk forever to the nearest hospital to only lie to them why you’ve swallowed a car key.  I want you to know, when you are alone then, I am with you. Alone.

I want you to know, that when you’ve been washing your clothes at weeks end and you realized that the gasoline will never come out and you’ll have to buy a new favorite shirt. When you realize it’s not the smartest option to execute your own death in your favorite clothes. When you realize it’s harder to burn oneself alive than most other methods. When you sat alone, covered in gasoline with a match nearby. When all was silent around you but the terrible pain in your heart continued to beat a fateful drum. When you were alone then, I was with you.

I want you to know, that each, method of suicide that you thought of, I probably thought of too. When you are alone, I am alone. And when I am alone, perhaps I’ll get a letter from you. And our bullets will fall like hidden angels to the ground, clanking as they hit the pavement.

© 2010 David Greg Harth

10.12.13.12:19:47@130BklynNYC