In early January 2011 I wrote a poem called “What if Superman Said” The poem begins “I held the knife against my skin and I would not bleed.” This may have been one of the most trying times of my life, and many days it feels as though those times have continued. I have faced homelessness, financial struggle, the loss of my grandmother, and the loss of the last woman I will ever allow myself to love. Facing eviction yet again, questioning what my purpose is for living, I turned to God. I wonder what message will be passed to me from above.
I drug a Smith and Wesson serrated folding knife up my arm from my wrist to my elbow in a curved line hoping to sever my veins in multiple places. In tears and emotional agony I looked at my arm the skin never even broke. It seems the weight of others burdens, the suicide of my own brother, and a dedication to be the strength for everyone’s weakness had thickened my skin.
I wanted to die, I tried to die, and I couldn’t.
That leaves me here. In the same place I was in January wanting a love that does not exist, wanting a Grandmother I can’t have back, wanting success and hope for people I can’t provide, and wanting more than anything for someone to understand: how hard it is to live in a world caring for everything and everyone when we have all be conditioned that it is not our job to care. A funny thing happened after that suicide attempt, a scar formed. Every day I wake up and I look at it, it is a reminder I was meant to go on, it is a reminder I will survive, that I am strong for a purpose even if I do not understand it.
I look at that scar when things are bad, then I send my thoughts to God. What do you do when you feel like you have nothing to live for except a world that depends on you that you can’t rely on back and death only touches those who matter to you most, almost as if teasing? I never wanted to be Superman, I wish I knew what being strong entailed, and I’d have long since stopped praying for strength. How do you go on when you only desire to be wanted, and being a need means to be taken for granted. I can name many people who need me, or need me to do something.
Selfishly I wish I could find it in my character; to be weak, needy, and selfish like the rest of this world. I wish I could take the world on my shoulders and put it down. Yell to the masses FUCK THIS CAPE. Every day is a reminder that I cut myself and would not bleed, I look at my arm and I ask God why. Then I pray for the very thing that is destroying me –strength, and when I’ve finished I CRY.
