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Unread 09-16-2024, 01:34 PM
Ashley Bowen Ashley Bowen is offline
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Join Date: May 2005
Posts: 647
Default Marriage in the Suicide Garden of North Dakota

Marriage in the Suicide Garden of North Dakota

“Clinicians are now citing incidents of narcissists coercing their partners to commit suicide as part of the Narcissistic Discard Phase, the last phase of the Narcissistic Trauma Cycle.”

My seasons withered next to you until
dead weather woke me up. Cadaver-cold.
My breath: blue ice garroted off. You’d rattled
my pills and taunted me to take my life
into past tense, balanced a gun between my teeth
to test the weight of better and for worse.
I limped along for years like this, ignoring
the nooses you looped around the rafters,the notes
you slipped into my shirts that read Go Home
until, at last, I woke snow-packed in permafrost.
Winter finches were knitting a nest overhead,
huddling under the hood of one another’s
wing for warmth. Me? I chipped
a trail toward the airport towers and shivered
against the snowfall’s climbing inches. Planes
were crackling over ice and weather. I snapped
myself into my seat, routing south,
flying fast, barely holding on.



ALTERNATE VERSION


Marriage in the Suicide Garden of North Dakota

“Clinicians are now citing incidents of narcissists coercing their partners to commit suicide as part of the Narcissistic Discard Phase, the last phase of the Narcissistic Trauma Cycle.”

My seasons withered next to you until
dead weather woke me up. Cadaver-cold.
My breath: blue ice garroted off. You’d rattled
my pills and taunted me to take my life
into past tense, balanced a gun between my teeth
to test the weight of better and for worse.
I limped along for years like this, ignoring
the nooses you looped around basement rafters,
the notes you slipped into my shirts that read Go Home
until I woke snow-packed in the permafrost.
Winter finches were knitting a nest overhead,
huddling under the hood of one another’s wing for warmth.
Me? I chipped a trail toward the airport towers
and shivered against the snowfall’s climbing inches.
Planes were crackling over ice and weather. I snapped
myself into my seat, flying fast, routing south,
barely holding on to life.

Last edited by Ashley Bowen; 09-16-2024 at 02:26 PM.
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