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Suicide Journal
My Son Killed Himself, We’re Left with “Why?”
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The End…
The End…
I’m 30,000 feet over some flyover state headed to the west coast, drawn there because the Brilliant Tragedy that was second son is now gone…
Brock N Meeks
Sep 3, 2014
Thirteen Words
Thirteen Words
The scene in his room is a violent still life portrait of a desperate and tortured soul. It’s been four days since my son killed himself…
Brock N Meeks
Sep 4, 2014
Chewing on Broken Glass
Chewing on Broken Glass
Mr. Meeks, you may see your son’s body now…
Brock N Meeks
Sep 5, 2014
As Wise And Warm As Any Street
As Wise And Warm As Any Street
A Eulogy for My Son
Brock N Meeks
Aug 30, 2015
Latest
Dispatch from the 7th Level of Hell
Dispatch from the 7th Level of Hell
The report of Fairfax, Va., police officer Tracy Perkins is written in clean, clinical prose: “At approximately 1500 hours on Aug. 29…
Brock N Meeks
Aug 30, 2017
Grief is My Disease
Grief is My Disease
Grief is a disease.
Brock N Meeks
Nov 5, 2015
Suicide Ghosts: Frighteningly Close, Disturbingly Resilient
Suicide Ghosts: Frighteningly Close, Disturbingly Resilient
It’s been nearly a year (August 31st) since my son died by his own hand. I stopped living that day and started to merely exist; it’s the…
Brock N Meeks
Aug 4, 2015
In the Company of Grief
In the Company of Grief
It Evolves. It Pursues. It.Does.Not.Let.Go.
Brock N Meeks
Oct 2, 2014
Disposable People
Disposable People
“This is our last family reunion. It’s the first in a morgue.”
Brock N Meeks
Sep 24, 2014
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