Killing My Self Without Dying

this is the thing that kills me,
most of the time…

i am half dead
by the time i tell you,
“i am fine”

i would have found
one thousand nine hundred
and eighty seven dramatic ways
to kill myself,
in my head,
just so i can compose myself
and this text as well,
just to say:
“i’m ok.”

remember that time
when i had the beard,
so much of it?
when my moustache would outgrow
the curve of my lips?

i was more alive
to the progressive thoughts,
to the way of redemption

was more awakened to the mistakes
i had made:

not speaking up

not getting off the pedestals

not being vulnerable

not being humble

not telling others
what was really on my mind

perhaps my fear was of their reaction
perhaps my disappointment
was that they rather declined my honesty


perhaps i wasn’t courageous enough

and i am the guy
who would suddenly run up a flight of stairs
just to tell a girl that i like her
and then have nothing else to say

at least
i used to be that way

i have always been like this:
but with a whole struggling nation
breaking the bridge of its nose
against tyranny
to stagger over to the other side
and breathe in liberation
and break down
and cry like a grown man should

we men don’t cry enough

but it’s ok to need help
it’s ok to ask for a day off
it’s ok to find strength
in the comfort of a woman
it’s ok to sleep like toddler after that

because i would not hide behind
aggressiveness, anger, rage
drink, smoke, alcohol, religion
and misinterpretation of spiritual texts!
just to emphasise that i am an able man
that i need to be left in charge
of all that is right
even when i am wrong

and this is not a holier-than-thou moment
because i have failed in the face of addiction

and i struggled to let you know
that i am no saint

and i have found
that it is a good place to start,

to continue…the life

so this is the thing that kills me:
wearing my failings around my neck
all the time, a constant reminder
that blurs out my vision of the future
like i will never be good enough
even for that one thing called purpose

i wear it
because you gave it to me

it would be rude to reject such a gift
even though it’s bad

it would be rude
and ungodly
to say:

fuck that!
that’s not what the bible says.

and i would ask for forgiveness
when the inner voice
pierces the inner man
like it has,
many of these several past days

and i would be committed
to the righteous way
not with the strength of my own

no, not with the strength of my own

because it is my strength
that always gets me killed

and so after mastering this kind of resurrection
i see the wisdom:

there is a door that leads to humility
while we think we’re locked up
in our weaknesses.

and this is a way
to kill your self
without dying.

[June 13, 2017]