Note: The poem below is my response to the poem, “The morning after I killed myself”, by Meggie Royer.

http://imgur.com/4swX4N1

My point being, that we must focus on cause and effect.

There is always a reason for someone committing suicide. Suicide can be over a minor reason. Or, a major reason.

But, if we only focus on the aftermath, and forget the reasons for these suicides, we do a disservice to both those whom have committed suicide, and those that are left behind.

(_)

Today is another day I decided not to kill myself.

By Paul Cousins.

Today is another day I decided not to kill myself. One more day I did not kill myself. A day filled with insults, threats, and pain.

A day filled with distrust, disappointment, and malice.

Another day, where I am torn down a little more. Disrespected for existing. And ridiculed over trivialities.

A life full of cruel rumors and lies about myself, stated outside my presence.

A world where have I have longed for companionship. Yet, a world already poisoned by years of lies set against me.

A world where there are no friends for me. Where I only receive scorn, because all only believe the half-truths set against me.

Today is another day I decided not to kill myself.

I did not ask for the family I was born into. The life I lead. The circumstances, that are not of my making.

And yet they bring me suffering.

But, they cause me suffering, because they believe that suffering should be my fate. For joy has been made a stranger to me.

They believe I do not deserve a smile for my acts. Do not deserve a kind word for my deeds. Do not deserve a, thank you, for my efforts.

A world where celebrations and friendship are for them, but not for me.

A world where my voice is treated like a mute, towards the deaf.

A world where if I am no longer here, all that will happen is that others will suffer in my place.

The family I was born into is a family of strangers to me. A family that never allowed me to get to know them. Because they never gave me the benefit of the day. They never trusted me.

Without trust, there is no respect. And without respect, there is no love.

I have siblings whom only value that which they do not have.

I have a mother whom only loves that which is already lost.

I have a father whom only respects that which is gone.

The family I was born into have forgotten. They have taken for granted. They have lost sight that I nothing, because they have not allowed me to have anything.

I know they would not miss me. What they would miss is the thought of missing me. But, not me, myself.

The family I was born into have mistaken the idea of showing love and kindness. With the act of showing love and kindness.

They have mistaken the instruction, with control. Where denying me from doing something, is not the same as teaching me not to do something.

They have mistaken protection, with neglect. Where protecting me from harm is not the same as denying me from learning and doing.

Today is another day I decided not to kill myself.

And I ask myself why I have not.

I am denied a path to success. I am denied the comfort of a meaningful life. I am denied even the possibility of any future at all.

I am denied the means in life to leave behind those whom harmed me.

And while taking one's life is morally wrong. What are morals compared to a life where only suffering and loneliness exist. Of only memories of agony. Of a lifetime of denied experiences.

What fear do I have of hell, when I am already there.

What worry do I have of pain, when pain is already everything but a lover to me.

Today is another day I decided not to kill myself.

But, tomorrow... Oh, what of tomorrow... I do not know what I will do tomorrow. Will I allow myself to receive more cuts and more scars.

Or, will I finally allow myself achieve the one desire I have left. That being, I just want my life to end.