The Story of a Suicidal Girl

a narrative poem by Destini Preisler

 

I watched her take a shaky breath.

Her hair blowing gently in the salty wind.

Her soft face, so beautifully close to death.

I knew that I could not let her win.

 

The calm waves match the intense blue of her eyes.

Salty tears mixing with the depths of the cold sea.

You’re ugly. You’re fat. You’re dumb. All lies.

She now believes that this is where she’s meant to be.

 

The dark clouds roll in, like a mighty lion claiming its prey.

God opens his big, caring heart, and let’s tears poor from the sky.

Choices after choices, leading to her early judgment day.

Booming memories flood through her mind, before she’s ready to say goodbye.

 

Soft, light kisses on plump, pink lips.

The safety of an embrace from another.

Clumsy, stumbles, falls, and gracefully slips.

He still protected her like an older brother.

 

Every lingering touch made her fall in love.

Every broken cord, he played like new.

Fingers intertwined into a perfect glove.

Breathtakingly beautiful, like a flower she grew.

 

Screeching shriek of breaking glass.

Pitch black chaos all around.

The injustice of death, moving fast.

When she notices the crimson stained ground.

 

Ears ringing and tear stained eyes.

Screaming bloody murder over the still body.

Hand over a dead-beat heart and lifeless eyes.

His gang had made him pay his fee.

 

Grades dropped from A’s to D’s.

She started cutting class.

Why him and not her? Why did it have to be?

Could not let go of the past.

 

Crimson, crusted, tiger-striped arms.

Her friends started to worry.

Denied all evidence of self-harm.

And pushed her friends away in a hurry.

 

People left her alone and gave her some space.

Even her mother and father.

That familiar look upon her face.

I know how it feels to lose your significant other.

 

So here we are, on the bridge.

I know she wants to leap.

I climb over the rackety hinge.

And stare down past my feet.

 

She looks at me in surprise and tries to pull away.

I shake my head, grab her hand, and close my eyes.

Then we jump to end the misery.

All of our suffering finally dies.

Destini says, “I am a freshman in college, double majoring in creative writing and journalism, and I have been writing since fourth grade and love composing songs and fantasy/fiction stories.”

 

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