You Find Mia

Written by Sue

Illustrated by FoxHana04

Illustration by

Russian roulette clinging to current,

white and black forgiving one assailant.

Two barrels empty

One filling to bury

A pass of the barrel

is a pass of Mia

Gargled down by Whitten and Back

A fair way to subdue

the emotional hap-n-hacks.

So starts the

click, shove, twist

Whitten’s glove of white spits,

Clink, huff, twirl

Rotary barrel and a spin.

Current cheers on, bets are placed

The gauntlant bearer barks:

“This life won’t bolt,

booze and cards will never leave,

and cash never heathes”

Signature Mia,

spills from his glass

as he takes sips

for another laugh

Current receding, bets cease

The gun passed to Back,

He begs to plead:

“Those things to boast—”

a cough escapes his throat

his eyes-- full of scorn,

his tongue – clicked in beat

Signature Mia,

spills from his hand

as he shatters glass

for his last demand

                                                                                                “my indignity of sobering

                                                                                                observe,  the current near the rim”

                                                                                                He croacks,

                                                                                                voice hoarse, eyes dim

                                                                                                The hanging lamp concaving,

                                                                                                Ringing bells and lapping songs

                                                                                                with dragging chairs and

                                                                                                heavy bonds

                                                                                                “An end to it all

                                                                                                one minute grandiose

                                                                                                means one minute to fall”

“You! Find Mia!” Whitten screams

scrambling for memories

dipped in seams

of incoherent chants

of drunken whims

but they aren’t remedies

To the barrel that reached three

“Accordingly, the rate of suicide among BD patients is approximately 10–30 times higher than the corresponding rate in the general population. Extant research found that up to 20% of (mostly untreated) BD subjects end their life by suicide, and 20–60% of them attempt suicide at least one in their lifetime.”

                                                                                                Dome et al. 2019

“At the risk of feeling dumb, check in

It’s not worth the risk

of losing a friend;

even if they say:

“Just keep your plans”

I hope--

that you never have to drop.”

                                                                                                Twenty One Pilots, At The Risk