8.32am (free verse creative poem)

Below is a creative writing piece I wrote inspired by my own experience with suicidal ideation. This was really therapeutic for me to write about and has allowed me a new perspective. These things aren't nice to think about, but they are important. When you struggle everyday with these thoughts, sometimes you have to follow the spiral down. Just to see what's at the other end.

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8.32am

The front door is still unlocked.

Your keys still untouched on the kitchen counter.

The time on the microwave reads 8.32am.

Dishes from last nights dinner remain in the sink.

A glass of water, half drank, beside the stove.

Your cat is looking for you.

The TV is still on but the movie ended late last night.

CDs are spralled out along the cabinet next to your player, with your favourite disc still inside.

Photos line your walls, your loved ones permanently smiling with you behind the glass.

Couch is covered messily with mismatch pillows and blankets.

Your cat smells them, still looking for you.

The bathroom sink drips slowly, you always hated the drip.

Your hair products surrounding your messy basin.

Your toothbrush in your favourite mug.

Lipstick stains on the mirror from the last time you got dressed up.

Washing still wet inside the machine.

And the toilet paper is almost out.

You cat is still looking for you, around every corner.

Your bedroom door is cracked open.

The ceiling fan is still on.

Sweet smell of your perfume lingers through the air.

Piles of clothes cover the floor.

Your bed isn't made.

Your cat wonders around and curls up on your pillow.

Small blades sit on your night stand next to a page from your favourite notebook.

Empty pill packets on the floor.

Your childhood teddy sits on the corner of your bed.

Makeup sits on your dresser, along with a photo of your sister.

Your cat is still looking for you.

You favourite chair by the window remains empty.

Your laptop is still charging.

Everything is exactly the way you left it.

But you'll never come back to finish the laundry, or wash those dishes, or make your bed, or pick up the clothes. Your cat won't stop looking for you.

Those people in the photos will one day come by and sit in the dark. Surrounded by your things. Surrounded by you. One of them will look after your cat.

But you aren't there.

And you will never be there again.

Because this is the morning after you died.

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-jen xx