A word packed with so much meaning. For some, it is despair, for others a way out, relief.
My mind moves back and forth, wondering, thinking.
What goes through their mind? Right before? What about after?
Strings of words, stories, messages, questions. Flood the space between my fingers as I seek to understand that I do not.
A moment, minutes, time. A heart that stops beating, lungs that no longer hold air. A brain that is ravaged with no more oxygen.
These body parts that once held a life together, now separate that which is matter from the soul.
A body that held a friend, a brother, or sister. A heart that held love. Hands that hugged. Someone’s mom or dad. A child.
A body deceased, buried, no longer. There is no saving, no hope, no fix for that which is no more.
Then, a funeral, to share, closure. A post notifying friends and family. Maybe even a news article.
The only piece that continues to live in the grief encapsulating a heart, a body. One that cringes at the word, suicide. One that cries inside the hearing of another death. So final. Another gone. And why? I will never quite understand.
