“My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” published at Hotel by Masticadores

On By Mike U.In Poetry

Greetings, friends. My poem “My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” is now live at Hotel by Masticadores. I’m so thankful to editor Michelle Navajas for publishing this unusually dark and intense poem. Much gratitude to you, Michelle, for being willing to share writing that deals with difficult subjects. We all have voices that need to be heard.

“My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note”
© 2025 by Michael L. Utley

“my old man died alone
on a busted sofa
on a September farm
in the middle
of nowhere
with a gut full of
prescription drugs
and a poorly scrawled note
left on the kitchen table

“something went wrong
in my head”

it said

he checked out
without tipping
the bellboy
the cheap fuck
remorseless
to the end

and in his
final act
on planet earth
he also killed
me…”

You can read the rest of my poem here:

“My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” by Michael L. Utley

Also, please consider following and subscribing to Hotel by Masticadores, where you’ll discover a world of wonderfully imaginative and profound writing.

37 thoughts on ““My Life Reads Like a Suicide Note” published at Hotel by Masticadores”

  4. A Like isn’t really the most appropriate response to such a powerfully haunting poem, Mike. I hope writing these profoundly tragic poems provide you with some kind of cathartic release. Sending more hugs. ❤️‍🩹💕

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    1. Thank you, Jane. Writing lances the wound and cleanses it for a while, and then inevitably it must be done again and again. Some things just take a long time to work through, I suppose. I’m so glad you’re part of this community. I value your presence, kindness and wisdom more than you can imagine. I hope your day is going well, and I hope your weekend is better than average–no, wait, I mean awesome! (That’s better, eh?) 😊🍁

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      1. Then keep writing about the wounds, again and again, until suddenly you feel a true release. This weekend is Thanksgiving in Canada, and there’s always something to give thanks for. And, Mike, I appreciated your “eh”, very Canadian!! 😊💕

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  13. Mike, I admire your courage and your honest telling of your story. The poem was heartbreaking, I cried for the 7 year old boy and yet applaud you for surviving and being willing to share your pain. I commend you for choosing to become the kind, caring, and compassionate man you are today in spite of your early circumstances.

    I pray that writing about it brings healing for you and for those who may be struggling with similar situations. Blessings, my friend!

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    1. Kindest thanks, Peggy. I’m grateful there are people like you in this community who are so accepting and supportive. Sometimes our own stories remain untold simply because no one is there to listen or to care. Sometimes I feel like I share too much, but I can’t seem to help it–it’s just me. Writing about it is beneficial, for sure, and oddly enough, reading what I’ve written helps in a different way. So I’m getting a double-dose of relief with my writing–a purge, and then a sort of denouement or resolution (at least for a while). We reveal to ourselves a lot about who we are when we write, so reading my own poetry, essays and stories provides a different perspective compared to writing them. It’s all good in the end.

      Truly grateful to you, my dear friend. Your generous support is invaluable to me. I’m glad you’re here, Peggy. 😊

      Liked by 2 people

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    1. Thank you so much, Hope. You’re incredibly kind. Writing about this certainly helps (along with years of therapy). My hope is that sharing my experiences will give others strength and let them know they’re not alone. Thank you for visiting today and for your wonderful comment. Wishing you a peaceful week ahead.

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