Ed. Note: This poem was sent to us by Deputy Gilbert Hernandez from the Bexar County Constables Office in San Antonio, Texas. We feel it’s worth sharing.
The Unspoken Word – “Suicide”
We met on I-37
the day and time escape me
but never the moment.
Your body was broken, torn, your contents spilled open.
Alone on that darken, desolate, dislocated roadway
and me with a job to do.
Don’t look them in the eyes the older badges often said;
what do you care if this is what they choose to do?
Turning to walk away, I heard you speak if only a whisper,
your eyes now blinked with the blood and tears
You labored to say make it go away, as if I had any power,
to cast out those things that sulk in your darkness.
Not like this you said you squeezed my hand in pain and fear,
Oh, the horror of your moment.
Just once I felt the vulgarity of the suffocating, sarcophagus
in that soundless and stillness
The indignity, the glass, the sickening smell
of your blood now mixing with gas.
Sharing your moment with me; a gift, a prize so sought and lauded.
Staying as long as I should, no . . .
I stayed much longer than I could.
Realizing the souvenir you bequest me,
Unparalleled In those moments we embrace
so dear between the dawn and the sublime darkness,
where rest is plentiful and sweet memories repose.
Often your sight revisits to bid me greeting
and although we met, the day and time deceive me,
I do detest the moment.