I have gotten to know Craig through interviews and hanging out while filming The S Word – of which he has become an integral part. I am so proud to call him my friend – my extremely talented friend. Read this poem – his photos, his books and other poems at thisishowitfeels.com and you’ll know what I’m talking about. – Lisa Klein
This is How it Feels: Attempting Suicide and Finding Life – Craig A. Miller
42 years buried under my skin…and still I write.
AND STILL I WRITE
Born into a life that was my greatest challenge yet
I’ve faced the darkest corners of a maze I’m still lost in
I’ve been the victim of the worst, a tragedy I cannot speak
The words alone would turn your soul and bring you to your knees
A challenge for a child, fit for the greatest king
Chose the role, signed the line, and stepped into the ring
I’ve felt the sting of words so sharp they slashed my confidence
I’ve felt the blow of fists that broke the bones beneath my skin
…And still I write
I’ve been in love so deep I nearly drowned inside her soul
My heart has been so broken that I still can’t fill the holes
I’ve cried so hard my body lay barely breathing on the floor
My muscles weakened by the very thought to carry on
I’ve been the masochist who marked my wrist and cut myself to shit
I’ve closed my eyes, waved goodbye, and blew the world a kiss
I’ve woken just to find I can’t give up this challenge yet
They picked me up, dusted me off and threw me right back in
…And still I write
I’ve felt the pain of loss before I felt the gift of life
I’ve known what this can do to faith, God becomes denied
The mountain that I stood on fell to sand beneath my feet
Everything has reason but the reasons don’t bring peace
An open diary of photographs spread across my skin
The roots of what you think is ink run so deep within
I’ve been a victim of addiction, drove the train off of the tracks
Faced the demons that controlled me, killed the monkeys on my back
I’ve sacrificed my life just to wear a Cold Steel Crown
And all it brought were wars that brought my kingdom to the ground
Standing in the spotlight, kicking, punching at the door
I’ve screamed myself to sickness while my words just went ignored
…And still I write
And every time I find an edge I’ll always tend to jump
Landing in humanity forgetting what I’ve been taught
Leaving me to face the darkest parts within myself
A burning that could dwarf the strongest fires of your hell
I’ll play the roles committed to, before this life began
Holding up a promise to complete what I have planned
Despite how far I have to fall, from an angel to a man
And if all that’s left from these wings is a feather in my hand.. I’ll still write
