4th Annual Poems About Suicide Month

[vagabond]

words, disfigured
by pencils. it must be like this,
a crush, desperate folly,
a last ditch effort
to turn into sense
or something common.

words, executed
the way they should be,
were meant or weren´t, sometimes
graphite erases from paper
as complete and as traceless
as thoughts from a mind,
bullets from flesh.