I wrote this poem a while ago, on January 13th, 2008. I titled it "Here We Are" talking about the journey that survivors of suicide go through.
Everyday we awake,
with broken hearts.
Our passionate eyes will never
get to see their
smile,
hear their voice,
feel their hugs,
or say I love you and
hear their reply.
Just to awake everyday
is a challenge itself.
Most times we reach in that
closet for that mask,
secretly crying underneith.
Tears com now from things
that our soul years for.
The past is our love because
we see breath, our life full.
Memories now, only memories.
But we are still here,
missing them everyday, but still standing.
Here we stand, please listen to our tale.
So memories can still be made for others.
Look at our scar, we are not ashemed.
See our eyes, despair from our endless hunt for that love.
Life is a gift, here we stand,
strong from a deathful pain.
Battles with life, with ourselves,
please listen ad see how we stand, strong.
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