hallmark should make suicide cards
by Nanette Bellman
Jesus Christ, I didn't even get him a card.
and the hamster in my head is running on steroids,
conjuring up any justifiable reason
to spoon feed my soul.
The only thing I can swallow
is knowing that when his back is turned
or when he leaves the house
that wondering eyes,
like snooping through bathroom cabinets
at someone's house the first time you meet them,
will read the heart soaked paper.
that's when wonder will turn to lust
- wanting those words for their own.
he'll turn around or walk in the door
and be left to pick up the pieces.
because the aftermath could be rued as a homicide.
outlined in chalk
with the evidence still gripped in hand.
the words I wrote for you...
turned out to be their suicide note.
Author's Note: happy birthday dad.
Posted on 03/19/2008
Copyright © 2020 Nanette Bellman
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by A. Paige White on 03/20/08 at 02:34 AM|
Whew. Beautifully written. Perhaps the logo for this particular category of cards would be "MorgueMarks"... and the killer ending couplet is just awesome. I can so relate to this except... oh my God it would be for my Mom and her birthday is soon. Thank you for this. You reminded me! I've never been able to remember her birthday. What a reminder.
|Posted by Scott Utley on 12/12/08 at 01:01 AM|
this is a stunning outstander - i shutter - what powerful voice you have - it is still echoing
|Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/18/09 at 11:10 PM|
A hauting piece of work. WOW- the last 2 lines rreally got to me.
|Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 02/23/11 at 04:02 PM|
absolutely amazing! i don't know what else to say.