And my friend told me that his metaphors work better in his head and they don't seem to come together on paper but I guess that's how life exists. Air makes more sense inside our lungs, blood is livelier in our veins and what does that make us? If not a cage made to capture life, What does that make us If not a scavenger, always meticulously picking insecurities and lies.
But do you know veins carry blood with little or no life in it and my heart generates it? Do you know I'm just a walking compilation of bones and muscles and I cannot even start thinking about the atoms that make me whole. Do you know atoms are home to smaller entities and some of them walk around while some rest. Maybe atoms tell us that home could be found in the smallest places. One should just want to give it away. Existence can thrive even in the most remote spaces.
Your name is the shore I'm found on, every now and then. You're the innumerable grains that are settled to build an end, I'm the name the waves wash off of you Always.
Maybe there is another life, maybe. But what we do have is this life. Still, many throw their lives into the unknown depths of death. Why?
It is time we stop saying, "he ended his life" and start saying, "he ended his pain" for no one of them was ending their life, but their never-ending pain, or rather the pain that they thought they have no way of escaping from or reducing. Given the slightest of the hope that there is a chance to make the pain less or make it go away, who would want to end their lives? Remember, they are not even ending their pain, they are ending the pain that has become their life.
Also remember, suicide is NOT, as most would believe, an act one commits over a moment's impulse. Most suicide has a long story of expressing the same to the near and dear ones in hundred thousand ways. Just that we fail to notice.
While it may sound disturbing for many, we should all know that each life lost to suicide, that is our responsibility, too.