Psychosomatic Suicide

-Psychosomatic Suicide-
by
Keaton Foster



Shut up
Be silent
Speak nothing
Say even less
Allow me some sleep
If only for a moment
For one solidified second
And if you don’t
If you flat out refuse
These hands will be forced
I will act to achieve
What increasingly
I so desperately need
God above will understand
And if he don’t
At this point I could care less
This has come down to survival
The coexistence of two beings
Inside the shell of one
My heart, these lungs
Every significant function
Except one has become autonomous
My brain, requires constant operation
Never ending, repetitive affirmation
It must be told that everything is all right
That the world around means no harm
And if I don’t tell it what it needs to hear
Then all day, every damn day
All night, every damn night
It keeps me wide awake
Racing with ideas of “what if?”
Screaming, you must listen
And hear what I am saying
Understand my deepest concerns
And do not rest until they are met
Being as creative as I appear
Has a terrible price
And a laundry list of consequences
Ones that I can live with
And ones that increasingly I cannot
Psychosomatic suicide
At time seems to be a choice
Where there are no others
I’ve held the gun to my head
I’ve held the knife to my vein
I’ve taken handfuls of drugs
All of it in the name of escape
All of it because of the exhaustion
That comes with having a mind like mine
It never shuts off unless it’s at peace
With me and my surroundings
It never allows me an ounce of sleep
Without a mountain of assurances
It is without question costing me
Everything
Those that I love and those that I need
Those who understand what’s happening
And those who understand what is not…




Psychosomatic Suicide
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013