detinate 30

Ok. Its nothing a day like any day.
But its the day we talk about suicide .
Its the week of suicide...or the month of it...
I figuired out a lot that my body was telling me...its the rumblings of shattering emotions...people i am listening to and talking with....
i should check out the bodies...mine is so fucking honest.
my sister. called. Screaming about jumping, the bridge. i heard traffic.
she wouldnt stop.
i wanted to call the police.
I vomited a lot.
a whole lot.

Sometimes i wish I could think like that.
Act like that.
Die like that.

But I already choose to live.
even though my body is dying...
even though I have to struggle with a whole lot more than most people. and not as much as everyone.

My work isnt finished.

Im listening to Soft Shoulder by Ani Difranco. It reminds me of someone troubled I met this week, someone else who has given me thoughts about these endings people choose for themselves and sometimes accomplish.
I feel their pain so deep in my body. I dont think anyone one of them would believe me if I told them that. Some how emotions seep into me. from other people.
But its just who I am...and how I am.

But in our categorical Americana. Im just a beautiful freak.
the "artist" word does not cut it today.

-Coal