By Jennifer Michael Hecht
Don’t kill yourself. Don’t kill yourself. Don’t. Eat a donut, be a blown nut. That is, if you’re going to kill yourself, stand on a street corner rhyming seizure with Indonesia, and wreck it with racket. Allow medical terms. Rave and fail. Be an absurd living ghost, if necessary, but don’t kill yourself. Let your friends know that something has passed, or be glad they’ve guessed.
But don’t kill yourself. If you stay, but are
bat crazy you will batter their hearts
in blooming scores of anguish; but kill
yourself, and hundreds of other people die.
Poison yourself, it poisons the well. Shoot yourself, it cracks the bio-dome. I will give badges to everyone who’s figured this out about suicide, and hence
refused it. I am grateful. Stay. Thank you for staying. Please stay. You are my hero for staying. I know about it, and am grateful you stay. Eat a donut. Rhyme opus with lotus. Rope is bogus, psychosis. Stay. Hocus Pocus. Hocus Pocus.
Dare not to kill yourself. I won’t either.
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