Image by William Byrd

From your shower. Jesus, Tom,
no one does that. Hangs themselves.
No one does that. Tom hanging.
Christ. From your shower they found
you. The gardenias didn’t bloom
that spring. My hands sore
from all the weeding and I
had to go see the baby elephant at the zoo
without you. At the funeral, all I could picture
was his small trunk hanging
from your shower. Jesus. No one
does that to themselves. My hands
bled from pulling wild flowers, from
pulling that day they found
you hanging from your shower.


Fati Z Ahmed loves good food and funny stories, and never, ever turns down second helping of either. She has spent time working in the music industry, as a laboratory assistant, and a horse-back riding instructor. Currently, Fati is pursuing her MFA at Florida State University and is an editor at Revolution House magazine.

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  1. Kate

    I agree with Kathleen – Hard to find words – but Fati Ahmed does – It’s the repetition and the images of pulling, pulling at the weeds and wild flowers – Great work –

  2. Dr. Mel Waldman

    As a human being, psychologist, and poet, I am deeply moved by this powerful poem. In a mental health clinic where I had been director, a therapist I hired lost contact with one of his patients who eventually committed suicide by hanging. The therapist was devastated. I found out about the confirmed suicide a few months ago. In such horrific cases, the survivors have much emotional work to do to heal.


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