I feel my chest heave as I walk through the kitchen.
Heavy breath, warm and wet.
My pace deliberate, pronounced.
Cold steel grazes my neck, awakening memories.
The laughter of children, comfort, peace.
The taste of lips, their warmth on my own.
My brother’s frustration, turned to compassion.
A sacrifice given, with love and trust.
Caring family, who understand, embrace.
I drop the knife to the ground. Not today.
~ elr
This poem was created as part of a poetry workshop. Each section taught the attendees different methods for gaining actionable inspiration from simple prompts. I did not have a specific end goal while writing. When the time came to assemble a poem from the pieces, I realized I could use them to describe one of the worst days of my life.
One evening in early 2008, I grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen and continued into the library where I placed the knife to my jugular vein. I was at a point of no return.
Just before my arm would draw the serrated blade across my neck, my hand involuntarily threw the knife on the ground. At that moment, my reflexes sensed that I was in danger and did what my heart could not: they took action to protect me from harm.
I became incensed by my failure. Then my thoughts turned to my children asleep in their beds and my spouse reading a book in the family room; meanwhile, I would have been bleeding out on the library floor. It was then I decided I needed help.
I reached out to friends at church and a gender therapist to help me learn better coping skills. I knew that I could no longer keep my feelings bottled up inside me. The only way forward was to open up, be honest, and drop the facade of being something I was not.
Eleven years after that day, and exactly one week after this poem was completed, I began HRT. Now, I move forward with hope and the caring support of beloved friends and family.
To quote another of my poems…
“Now life’s not easy, but I’ve got it good.” – from the poem “Greener“
Images: © Denise P. Lett, Tuthelens (composite by elr) | Dreamstime.com