Alice Revisited

Re-blogging this in honor of a young “Alice” performing this week.

Turning the Page on Suicide

So desperate for help

we dig our way from rabbit hole to rabbit hole

pride shrinking and growing depending which

ego we feed

following the myth to its never ending conclusions

corridors of cards

played down to the queen

and she smiles

squeezing our hearts ever tighter

a dreamed nightmare

of tattoos and tea parties

picked apart by plump caterpillar philosophers’

puffing smoke of their own self worth

around ignorance and bliss.

And I dolled up in innocence

follow the tic-toc of the nervousness time-piece

never one to be late

for a party I wasn’t invited to.

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bkmoore

I lost my son to suicide. Each day since, I commit my day to turning the page and continuing to write my story. There is no deeper grief, but I know too, that there is no greater hope than bringing life out of death. I offer each page to you as a testimony that there is hope for abundant life!

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