Whispers
Brains on the bathroom floor
Gloating
Consciousness above me
Floating
Despair at life unlived
Responsibility relieved
Bucket made of bone
A sieve
Whispers of all doubt
Believed.
Copyright © 2009, 2014, 2015 Bill Friday
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Bill Friday is a very much living Fictionary, 8 Megapixel Artist, and Bloody Awful Poet, living in Redondo Beach, California. His words and works can be found in multiple publications, and on his blog, billfriday.com.
Bill can be found on his blog, Facebook and Twitter
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Bill Friday’s poem immediately brought to mind Ernest Hemming’s suicide. He placed the end of a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger with his big toe. It is tragic he didn’t follow his own advice about suicide: ”
“The real reason for not committing suicide is because you always know how swell life gets again after the hell is over.” We are fortunate, however, that his Granddaughter, Mariel, is speaking out about her family’s mental illness and fighting stigma.