Turning Blue by Mark Tulin

 

Slicing my wrists with a plastic knife
didn’t work
Overdosing on anti-depressants
didn’t raise hope
I asked a friend to shoot me
but he didn’t own a gun
Instead, I crucified myself,
slung my neck
from a door hinge,
tied by a USB cord

When the medics rolled in,
they saw I was turning blue,
air supply cut off,
unable to unwrap the noose,
breathing stopped
and eyes closed shut
with the last words
Nothingness
is a much better place
written in cursive on my chest.