To live but not to die.
I see your suicides
Major depressive,
and the light of suicide.
The worm hole of darkness,
where you can walk but never speak,
in sleep or dream to come back.
Who gives up the right, to be
thus strapped, upside down.
While the toes curl in after being injected
with muscle relaxers and the phallic
symbol too spread the tongue out.
The current...all that current...
and where did my child hood go.
While that puddle grows larger...
under the moon...
What ever it was, you did to me,
I am sorry.
Is It Poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/electroconvulsive-therapy/
