To Suicide - Recovery

I thought I had you
locked in my basement
with no escape.

however, you still find a way loose
through the window i forgot to board.
suicide, you always damage
everything you touch.

you’re a cigar where the last puff kills you,
but we still decide to play Russian roulette
with our lips anyway.

sarah is some porcelain figure
cracked and singed,
because of your delicate flame.
your poisonous skin adjacent to hers
sickens me.

I wish she would put you out for good
then leave half of you on the table
and never look back.