I hope it isn’t a surprise
I practiced every day, another
unsuccessful attempt, the next morning
recognition of failure, and resolve
to try to do a better job today

my suicidal impulses began early
running at my Dad as he swung
on that metal swing set
was a good one, although
unsuccessful in any form of finality
however, according to Dad
while I spent 6 weeks in the ICU
it took years off his life
which I count as partial success

my next big suicide attempt
was learning to talk
I cannot tell you how many times
I have committed social suicide
I’m very successful at it
but, I never manage to die
which is unusual as
I am ready to die, in fact
I would thank someone, anyone  
if they would pull the rug out from
under me, and a giant hole appear
to take me to a better place

I would be remiss if I did not mention
how learning to talk was accompanied
by the equally suicidal failure to listen
I sincerely believe I would not have been
hit by those cars, if I had listened
to all those people shouting ”Watch out!”

cars are particularly good
for suicide attempts
my current count
on foot, three direct hits
on my bicycle, eight
at this point, it’s too disappointing
to tally failure followed by failure

bicycle suicide attempts
are always memorable
the unassisted flight through the air
the landing never yet close to success
the dénouement as I lift my genuinely
bruised and battered body from the road
street car tracks (that one was particularly inspired)
pick up what is, usually, the mangled remains
of my bike; I have learnt, whenever this happens
take a moment and reflect, look into the car
that either hit me or that I hit, look at
the faces of the driver and passengers
run a gamut from horror to astonishment
often accompanied with screaming
loud honking of the horn in an attempt
to applaud? warn me not to do that again?
perhaps roll back time? whatever it was
I never felt honking showed a proper appreciation
for any of my spectacular failed suicide attempts
I think the message would have had more impact
if they backed up and gave it a second try

I realize I am very picky about my suicide attempts
I am not in favour of explosions, guns, hanging
carbon monoxide poisoning in the garage is gauche
entombment is not a method I would ever consider
the general horror I feel even imagining it
leads me to question how serious I am about ending
it all, but every next failed suicide attempt puts that
doubt to rest

I could add more but the list of reasons for each failure
the how, why, what, where would only be tedious
I am certain when this note is finally read
it will have been the boredom and endless waiting
to succeed committing suicide, that was the death of me