I’m sorry, but we need to talk about suicide…

From Greece With Love

From Greece With Love

Earlier this week I found out someone who I had grown up with but had lost touch many years ago had taken his own life. Yesterday was the 10 year anniversary of an amazing human, someone who taught me more than they will ever know, taking their life. In the summer of 2015 I lost one of my dearest and best friends, in the same way, and she will never know that my life will never be the same without her.

This is a subject I have always planned to write about, because as many people who have followed my writing over the years will know, putting some words down and emptying the thoughts in my brain is a kind of personal therapy for me. But on this subject, I have always refrained as I know how deeply and how directly it affects so many of my loved ones.

However…

View original post 1,572 more words

Steven “Jesse” Bernstein: Tribute

from Crazywriterof6

Crazywriterof6

WARNING: This poetry can be very depressing and cause anxiety in some. Please read or listen to with caution for your own emotional state. Jesse is also a genius in his expressions and descriptive poetry.

Mr. Bernstein was an amazing “Spoken Word” poet that went through way too much. His birthday was on December 4th. Rather then tribute his suicide (A loss for all), I prefer to celebrate his birthday. I thought I would introduce some of you to his poetry. Remember it can get rough.

I hope to publish some spoken word poems of my work on here someday.

Enjoy and please take pay attention to the warning above. I relate to this poem. Never having self-esteem ever for my looks… FACE And of course MORE NOISE

I hope you find a new poet you love listening to him…

Steven Jesse Bernstein — Face

And

More Noise by Steven…

View original post 2 more words

Happy Birthday Daddy 1940-1992

from the Looking for the Light Blog

Looking For The Light

The morning after you killed yourself we went to secure the house. I knew immediately you suffered slowly. Among the papers, trash and clothes I found your lock box. The divorce paperwork to my mother, every card I gave you as a child. I found the pad you were writing on. Your Bible on coffee table, dried tears as you read Job.

The note had 11:30 a.m. written in corner. I could see you called your best friend and the phone number to a suicide line. There were words and a drawing that made no sense. Granny paralyzed, crying, asking why. The house ransacked, not sure anything made sense to her.

Dirty dishes piled high, nothing in refrigerator, how did you live like this, how long? You phoned me several times in the months before your death. Delusional and highly paranoid each time. Someone was tapping your phone, they were trying…

View original post 157 more words