{"sf1_id":1413655,"sf2_id":"pnGZVO7m","title":"Poem: Flameout","author":"Varg Stigandr","words":738,"posted_at":"2019-01-27T04:09:00.000Z","tags":["Clean","Depression","Night","No-Yiff","Poem","Suicide"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1413655-poem-flameout","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/pnGZVO7m","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/8e/4d/8e4df5b8-ab54-4a44-bb8e-01d786455f27","description":"A terrible poem written... I don't really know why, proof read while half awake and put up here because I don't know what else to do with it.\nYou have been warned.","content":"It all goes quiet  \n  \n  \n  \n  \nThat's when you know  \nIt's happening again  \n  \nThe nose pitches forward,  \nSo you haul back on the stick  \nFor a moment a response  \nBut it's gone all too quick  \n  \nYour heart, like your head,  \nKnows what's below  \nKnows what is coming  \nKnows where you'll go.  \n  \n'Mayday! Mayday!'  \nYou can cry all you want  \nThe replies pour back in:  \n'We'll help!!' they taunt.  \n  \nBut what can they do?  \nFollow you down?  \nPicking up speed  \nas you hurl towards the ground?  \n  \nEven if they are there  \nAnd you know that they are  \nThe smoke from instruments  \nCoats the windows with tar  \n  \nYou're alone either way  \nAnd they can do nothing  \nSo why bother them at all  \nYou're better of bluffing  \n  \n'You ok?' they might ask  \nIt's 'I'm fine!' (you're insane)  \nBut telling them this   \nWill only bring pain  \n  \nThey can't bring your nose up  \nCan't extinguish that fire  \nThey can't fix your engine  \nYour brain sinking in mire  \n  \nOnly watch in anguish  \nAs you plummet down  \nAccelerating constantly  \nCurving toward the ground.  \n  \nStay silent.  \n  \nNo one can help you  \nYou'll only cause them more pain.  \nSuffer quietly  \nYou might escape this again  \n  \nStay dark.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;You're alone anyway  \nIn a crowd, in a wilderness  \nThe less that are with you  \nThe less you might crash with  \n  \nDo you want your friend by your side  \nIf it's a smoking hole in the ground?  \nIf you hit he should live.  \nShe'll get over the pain.  \n  \nThere's a buffet  \nAnd you're mashed  \nDown into your seat  \nAs your brain levels out  \nProbably over some street.  \n  \nYou hurl on forward  \nPeople notice  \nyou can't hide  \nNot from all of them  \n  \nCalls come in  \nYou know what they say  \n'Are you ok?'  \n'Let us help you!'  \n  \nThe radio's toast  \nUnderstanding them is hard  \nCall back even harder  \nBut they won't go away if you're silent  \n  \nWhere's that damn thing anyway?  \nYou can't see from the smoke  \nCan't find your checklist, your map  \nCan't find your instruments, your radio,  \nAnything, please!  \nIt's so hard to think  \n  \n'Go away.'  \nMaybe they'll leave you alone.  \nThey don't.  \n  \n'Just snap out of it.'  \n'Do cheerful things.'  \n'Do fun stuff with us, it'll make you feel better!'  \nAs if you just flying through unpleasant weather.  \n  \nThey mock you  \nThough they mean well  \nIt's all pointless, hopeless, useless  \nAll is lost; you're in hell  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;You pull on the stick again  \nYou can roll left or right nice  \nYou bet you can dive  \nUp, though, no dice  \n  \nThe people are still around you  \nPeople who care  \nYou wish they would leave  \nWhy are they there?  \n  \nThey're making it worse  \nThough not of their tool  \nIf you're alone be alone  \nIn a crowd is cruel  \n  \nGo away! You're hurting them!  \nThe guilt piles on  \nWhy can't they understand  \nThat they're hurting you too?  \n  \nSo you're mean.  \nYou snap left and right.  \nYou run them away  \nThrough the radio you bite.  \n  \nYou hurt them, you know  \nBut it's momentary  \nThe guilt is there but no more piles on  \nFor now the pain stays the same  \nFor now it's sedentary  \n  \nNight has been falling  \nYou're own personal dark  \nYou're own personal hell  \nWill you strike something there  \nLeave one final mark?  \n  \nThis would be over with  \nThere would be no more 'again'  \n  \nIt's in the black you notice.  \nIn the soot and the smoke  \n  \nThere it is again  \n  \n...And again  \n  \nA faint flash of red  \nThe smoke glows, then it's gone  \n  \nTo flash once again.  \n  \nYou wipe grime on the window,  \nYou try to see out.  \nThere are lights off your wings  \nTo the left and your right  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;What?  \n  \nThere's a flash again  \n  \nYou can make out a tail, and wings.  \n  \nFlash.  \n  \nA cockpit.  \nThere's a figure  \nLooking at you  \nThe radio stays silent.  \nHe only nods.  \n  \nTo the left there's the same.  \nThe radio, in the black  \nYou fumble, you find it  \n'What are you doing? Turn back!'  \n  \n'No.'  \n  \nGreat. One of these people.  \n  \n'Go away,' you say.  \n'Don't you know  \nWhat happens out here?'  \n  \nIn the next flash of red strobe  \nher face looks grim  \n  \n'We do,' she says.  \n'We've been here before and  \nWe're here again to go though it  \nwith you.'  \n  \nYou stared out the window  \nWhat should you say?  \nWho the hell  \nWants to be in hell?  \nWho would go through this again?  \n  \n'Are you nuts?' you say  \n'Why?!'  \n  \n'Because,'  \nthe other pilot says  \n'You're worth it.'  \n  \n\n"}