Ticking Time bomb

This is a poem that I wrote regarding a line my best friend said. This poem might be triggering to some, so TRIGGER WARNING. And yes, this poem is about suicide.
I don’t want you to be a ticking time bomb.

But when I finally realize it,

it’s always too late.

Counting down the days,

counting down the minutes,

counting down the seconds.

How many times has the fuse been blown out?

It’s only getting shorter.

Who will give you the lighter next time?

Would you search for your own?

“Can’t I be selfish one last time?”

you ask.

Well, can you?

What do we say to a question like that?

Doesn’t matter how we answer it,

It’ll only cause destruction.

“Can’t I be selfish one last time?”

Well, can you?

Doesn’t it all depend on you?

Your bank account has run dry,

because your problems have taken you places

you didn’t even know existed.

The deepest crevices of your mind,

don’t return your deposit,

so you fill it with your fears,

and the emotions you’d never visit with company,

before you seal it with your tears.

So when you ask “can’t I be selfish one last time?”

the answer should be YES

because you’ve been too selfless,

why else would your emotions never see the light of day?

You’re not afraid of them,


I’m afraid of the day I get that phone call

because you’ve blown up.

I’m afraid of the day

when I will have

no more days to count.

no more minutes to count.

no more seconds to count.


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