I almost wrote my obituary in rhyme called it my first poem about suicide, maybe my last poem of all time The thought felt clean...like erasing pain with one line...like tearing up the contract of life and saying,“I resign.” But death is a liar dressed in comfort...It whispers sweet nothings, tells you the end is relief...that the rope is forgiveness...the blade is release But all it leaves is broken echoes and a chorus of grief I pictured my mother’s hands calloused from sacrifice steady as she held my life before I could hold it myself What kind of son cashes out early...after she’s already paid full price? No that would be theft....So I stayed And I heard the storm tell me “You better get tough!”And maybe it sucks...but storms don’t last forever...Hurricanes break...and even broken cities find a way to rebuild better After ashes...green grows...After darkness the sun shows After death knocks...you learn your soul’s door don’t have to close So next time I sit with despair...I’ll remind myself...life ain’t a sprint, it’s a brutal marathon...and quitting halfway just cheats the dawn Because do you know how many hearts would bleed if mine stopped? Do you know how many dreams I’d murder...by laying down in my own plot? No...I’ve decided my pen writes survival..my voice carves revival This story ain’t ending on a noose..it’s bending toward proof...that pain is a seed...and even the sharpest grief can bloom into belief So listen close next time the dark invites you under remember...there’s thunder...but thunder always rolls away And there’s still a chance to stay There’s still a fight to fight...And even when it sucks...do you know how many would thank the heavens....just because you chose life