Suicide shouldn’t ever be

private, town square strangling

stuck taught on a velvet line, that’s the only way

for us to go man, tattoo a manifesto

backwards on your chest

using a mirror, syntax insidious

devil horn maven, preferring those with dimples

jagged scars and burn marks, echoes

projecting fear on a cloudless

sky, we can all see the day

we die, but we’re probably wrong.