Upon discovering my mother’s suicide note, again by Cimmaron Burt

“Knowing the imperfection of repair, I realize it’s not something in me that is causing the contradictions it is something that is not. A discarded shard.

A sobering thought the longer one lives, the more times a part of them will be injured and subsequently fixed — minus bits of essence. Therefore, death is the suspension of the continuous cycle of breakdown.

Is death then a pleasure because it is the end of pain and the erosion of self?”

Whatever it was —

love, maybe sepsis? — no drug

could cure or treat it.


Cimarron Burt is a poet/educator pursuing her M.F.A. in southern Minnesota. Her poetry has appeared in 3Element Literary Review, Corvus Review, and A Quiet Courage. She self-publishes regularly on Tumblr and WordPress as “Literary Accidents.”