Gary Huggins

I Am Not Suicidal

 

I am not suicidal,

although in dank pub toilets

I hold two fingers to my temple

the shape of a gun.

 

I am not suicidal,

although a stair top clothes hanger

blows on the breeze,

as romantic as the wild rose.

 

I am not suicidal,

although a free fall from a free way bridge,

tantalizes like the destination

of each passing soul below.

 

I am not suicidal,

although the feel of smoke

wrapping its vines around my lungs

I crave for and accommodate often.

 

I am not suicidal,

although I’d happily sip poison from a capsule,

a modern Romeo,

if you were to lay still my Juliet.

 

14/09/16

A pub in Brighton.

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