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.