suicide is not a songbook

suicide notes of depressives 

are expression of higher vibrational denials,

as if given reality menus, 

where value is what you order

but not anything of what you eat,

as if for you,

there is nothing vitally healthful on it.

each person of that ilk

needs to be their own short order cook.

for a way to make fixings for the brain

that are spicy and tasty enough 

for the feelings

to be as eatables that empathetic can get.

and are delicious enough 

for spirit to go into delight.

perception is the kitchen to start with.

and then there is a startup parlance 

for cooking.

it involves access to higher octaves 

of sensing,

not resolve we commonly deal and live with.

but something more like the vibratories 

in perception,

something with a feel as eyes

and heart-brain as translator, 

a way of self dialogue, 

as if you were your own cooking show,

as both presenter and audience. 

you have to start with what feeds you life

and then add flavoring of a wider scope,

so that emotional salivation takes place

in the living aware digestion process.

sure, make enough for others,

in case they ever show up.

it is a somewhat specialized cuisine, 

but health as sanity requires it.

serve yourself often.

become a connoisseur 

in the art of your being.

share the vernacular with kindness 

when you can.

feed the beast as well as the beauty.

make epitaphs into recipes.

you are a cookbook in the making,

featuring higher frequency recipes 

as your flavorific lives it, without denial.

for the commemorative should be

that you live your sensitivity alive 

as others come into the deliciousness 

to dine . . .