My sister Betty's death was a semi-suicide. She euthanized herself with a bullet travelling through her brain not 'like' or 'as' a freight train would. A metaphorical mistake would be to say her blood caked 'like a cake'. The excess of blood that splattered was not 'like' or 'as' antimatter in the Devil's centrifuge gone wild with lack of style. Her spaghetti brain splattered, incomplete, not 'like' or 'as'.
Splattered is as splattered does. Her absence of matter is what mattered. Meatball gone. 'Like' or 'as' if you wish it so, but only then. Wish it so and you can twirl her brain on a fork.
Suicide was her addiction's last word.
What's clear is 'was'.
from All Drinking Aside: The Destruction, Deconstruction and Reconstruction of An Alcoholic Animal (Chapter 69, Rough Draft) e-info: moonshine2sunshine@yahoo.com
Suicide was her mental illness's last word.
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