I carried it in a secret place; always available; always prepared.
Like a dusty valium long past its prime
I survived "I need to"; "I have to"; "I can't".

Ten or more years have passed and I reached for my mantra
Speaking in the first person to myself in the third person.
"I took a gun and shot myself".

But my voice was halted by a child's wondering; love lost; untimely death.
And like a dusty dreamer long past her prime
I knew I had lost the luxury of suicide.

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