Overdose Poem

Candid glimpse at a dark day in my life. In no way am I trying to glorify attempting to take my life, as my muse or to romanticise the selfish act or for inspiring me the fodder for poetry. What I am showing you is, what I wrote that day, in a gelatinous state of delirium as my neurons frantically fired to keep my respiratory system from shutting down. Overdose and suicide are bad words in most circles, but it happens, and I figured it shouldn't be too taboo of a topic on a bipolar blog. I will at some point fill in a missing piece or two about the 4 years absent from my sidebar, but not tonight. I could barely see and my writing was sloppier than my usual scrawl. It was in 2 inks. This is what I wrote, punctuation and all. I only vaguely recall that day and I still don't know exactly what we meant to convey, yet I am content with all I can discern.

Have you seen the light?

It is the way for many

The theologians ask have you seen the light*

Meet a wayfarer in the darkest cave system. Have you seen the light, heard out.

Dead, to call one back, have you seen the light

Our " The/Our?" "cusstain?" once and without it we are lost

Have you seen the light, the real light.

Theologians have you seen the light?

The spelunker wandering asks where the light may be.

Dead, the body finds dirt in his face and the light has forsaken him.