Loving Myself, Whole

Swallowed vehemence in my routine of happiness
Choke on dying memories I forgot.
Flowing spirit, a merging of air and soul.
Parted waters, damned suffering.
God dusted the poppies with glamorous snow,
God gave man the tools to end it all.
Cascading knees and riptide thighs, I don’t want to end it all.
I swallowed and choked on vehemence in my selfish routine of happiness.
I feel I died somewhere in the mayhem.
I got lost in the poppies, I fell asleep by the waters.
God spared my soul
Weaved my organs’s bleeding wounds by hand
And let flowing blood gush back through my veins
To my most essential arteries
And awake me from near death.
I survived a suicide attempt.
Jesus Christ came to the bedside of my hospital bed
Placed his cooling, meek hands to my sick skin.
“It is not the time to die yet.”
My life could have ended at 17.
Nowadays, I gripe about more trivial things.
Since I was 13, I have wanted to die.
I’ve been learning how to live,
How to see the mayhem I foresee in a positive light.
God has been patiently guiding me towards some distant goal
As I tiptoe around the ins and outs of loving myself, whole.