June 10, 2016
Throw this worry away
and give me another.
Any thought has to be better.
This one bounces all around my brain:
I have seen the future.
Eighteen months of knowing
and being reminded every day
that I am going to die
and not that far into the future.
Family and friends need something else
to think about too.
Life has enough obligations,
without adding dying people
to your list of responsibilities.
Thoughts of death
cause pain and agony for everyone.
Better to be dead;
I am looking forward to the day.
Every morning when I wake up;
I think about my short future
and all the things I haven’t accomplished or done.
But it doesn’t give me the energy or the focus I need.
Better to be dead.
June 10, 2020
I’m posting this for the people out there who have cirrhosis or fatty liver disease or diabetes or high cholesterol or all of the above. (I also had colon cancer, too – at the same time.) Four years have passed since I wrote this and I’m still here. This is not a poem in favor of suicide, in fact, it is just the opposite. I am living proof that things will get way, way better; if you just listen and act. If I can do it, anyone can.