POEMS
MEMORIES
FAMILY
August 14, 2004 I asked my brother to write what he was experiencing so he wrote these agonized reflections. Despite my many attempts to ease his pain through brotherly love, two days later he shot himself and ended his living nightmare. I have organized his writing into poetic format, but did not change any of the words or punctuations.
- Daniel Webster
I want to remain quiet
but these words pour out of me
like a river that cleanses but
doesn’t ever stop, it comes back
always here never fading
Homeless inside myself
I watch myself slip away
the voices put me down
I can’t tell if it is on the outside
or on the inside
I repeat these words like a broken record
like Edgar Allen Poe,
“Only this and nothing more,
Only this and nothing more.”
I am in Hell
and I am climbing
but the ladder is part of Hell,
I know God hears me, but for some reason
He wants me here
Hell makes no sense,
Consumption of nothingness.
How can Nothing be consumed?
Hell consumes nothing, but it consumes.
It is a violent silence that never stops talking
Two opposites both true never stopping
But it still exists.
Confusing thoughts disorganized with no purpose
No sense that is sense going on forever.
I am doing this to myself.
I believe I can stop myself
but I try and I try
and I am very tired of life.
David Gordon Webster
