Poison was the cure
A base line plucking,
The beats of a snare drum growing louder,
My wife turns to me and tells me she wants to kill herself,
My heart pounds.
I am speechless and I don’t know how to respond.
The anger brews inside of me.
But why? I know why but I cannot accept it or understand it.
Life is a constant battle against the nothing.
She rather have nothing than to keep suffering and struggling.
Her pain is constant and there is nothing I can do
What advice do I offer?
Do I just tell her not to worry and to let the angels embrace her when the time comes?
Do I hold her hand and speak of a God that will save us?
They are just all words.
The darkness is real and it is consuming her
The light in her life being engulfed by it.
Do I shake her and scream, “Fight!”
I have seen her fight every single day,
In every battle,
but her sword has become heavy.
I finally look at her after all these thoughts
Our eyes meeting and our tears connecting us
The salty taste permeates my lips as I speak,
“Please don’t go without me.”