Today’s dVerse Poets Pub prompt instructed participants to create a a piece of flash fiction or other prose up of up to or exactly 144 words, including this line: “to hurt is to steal“. It’s taken from the lyrics of a U2 song, Mysterious Ways. Punctuation is permitted, but the words must be used in order.
This is my contribution, dedicated to my lost brother, Steven Thomas Harvell, a lament of 144 words.
The Thief: The Murder of Hope
No last words, no note, no decoder ring with answers: he left shrouded in unsolvable, excruciating mystery.
But he didn’t mean to hurt.
Is to steal a future the murder of hope? We can’t prosecute someone who’s already dead, or understand his crime of the heart when he stopped his own heart from beating… ever… again.
My fiction is that I understood him; my truth is that I didn’t—because I would never, ever have thought he could do what he did. How tragic for him not to be known, to commit the crime against himself in lonely isolation.
My truth is that I loved him, nay, love him, present tense.
My fiction is that I could ever understand what he did, that inexplicable, irreversible, permanent, violent choice. He stole his own future and murdered our hopes for him.
But he didn’t mean to hurt.
Processing is a Lifelong Journey
Poetry, prose and personal reflections have helped me process the shocking, gut-wrenching loss of this precious, unique, complicated person.
Sharing to Destigmatize and Prevent
I have shared many personal reflections about the tragedy of suicide—here. I write and speak about this often, in the fervent hope that we can destigmatize it for survivors, people like me, my family and extended family, and all of Steve’s friends, and to enable healing. And even more importantly, to make it possible for those who have lost hope but not life (yet) to speak, to share, to reach out and explore other options before making that final, fatal decision from which there is no return. Suicide is preventable.
Suicide Hotline
If you or anyone you know is suffering from the slippery slope of life and contemplating taking the ultimate step to end it, please call the National Suicide Hotline at 800-273-8255. There are also suicide hotline numbers in almost every country.
Thank You, dVerse
The dVerse community has provided inspiration and learning about different types of poetry for me, not just about tragedy and loss but about joy, curiosity, nature, absurdity, humanity and more. I encourage you to visit and explore, and to participate, if you feel called to. It’s a very welcoming group, whatever your level of poetic prowess.
#HeMatteredtoMe
Thank you for reading, and please know that you matter.
#hematteredtome
© 2025, Glover Gardens
I like the way you split the prompt line, Kim, but oh, what a tragic story.
Thank you, Kim.
What can one say, do … you do very right keeping his memory alive…powerful writing.
Thank you very much; that’s my aim. And maybe to keep some else alive, too, someone I don’t even know.
Kim, I can see your connection with your brother is strong. I think it is his way of telling you he’s still with you, in another place. I appreciate you sharing with others who may be struggling with the loss of a loved one or contemplating a drastic step.
YES, he is absolutely still with me – in my bones, in my sense of humor, in the hearts of his daughters and wife and friends who loved him, too. They don’t leave you completely when they leave you; there’s a permanent imprint.
I am so sorry for your lose. I am sure he is with you and watches over you.
Brenda, yes! I have him in little urns in my studio, and move him around sometimes to different places in the room depending on my mood. He would have thought that was hilarious, and perhaps in some way, he does. I also have two little plastic animals, a squirrel and a raccoon, that we found in his apartment after he died, which represent us as children, and I feel like they embody his spirit in some way. Weird, perhaps, but also comforting. Thank you for reading and for your empathetic comments.
My heart aches for your loss, the pain, the confusion …. suicide has impacted my extended family. I understand in some small way how this is your reality.
Thank you, Helen, and small or big, this understanding goes a long way. #hematteredtome and your person #matteredtoyou
Very moving x
Thank you so much, Anabel.
This is such a tragic story… so much still left to fiction since he left without telling his version… and of course such an exit hurts…
Thank you, Bjorn, your words tell me that you understand the void.
This was heartbreaking to read. If only, uede there was a decoder ring to help those left behind understand. It’s a difficult loss. The split prompt line fit in well in your prose.
Thank you for your kind words. It’s difficult, but sharing helps a lot.
This is to him a shrine and a remembrance; a repertory performance celebrating your relationship and your love. May squirrel and racoon snuggle together, Kim.
Thank you so much for the comment, which is worded so beautifully and meaningfully. Your comment is listed as “anonymous”, but whoever you are, I feel like you know me. That’s a gift.
Such a difficult but painfully heartfelt and powerful read Kim.
Thank you, Stephen. Sorry for the difficulty, but thank you so much for making it all the way through.
Very sorry for your loss. Trust me I understand. My little sister committed suicide when she was barely 41. I knew she was not well, out of a job for years, divorced, a difficult kid… We used to talk once or twice a week. I even called her shrink to see what if anything could be done to help. The shrink was a total imbecile, refused to say anything, Doctor-patient privilege! 🙄
It’s only afterwards, reading and reading that I understood some of the signs. The major issue with suicide is that they want to end up the suffering, not understanding that they end up all feeling…
Since then, I’ve kept my eyes and ears open to tell-tale signs in other people. I might have helped a couple…
My mother never recovered. But they mean no harm. Just can’t take it anymore…
As for us, well, we just have to keep plodding along. Remember the good days…
Hugs
Brian
Your experience is so much like mine; it’s sad to have a connection over such a tragedy, but somehow comforting, too. These things you said are so very, very true: “It’s only afterwards, reading and reading that I understood some of the signs. The major issue with suicide is that they want to end up the suffering, not understanding that they end up all feeling…” And that’s the tragedy of it, in addition to how the act to end the suffering CREATES its own suffering for the loved ones. My father never recovered, either, and I think he actually, literally, died of broken heart syndrome.
But yes, we do have to keep plodding along, one foot in front of the other, and taking care of our people, looking for the signs, as you say, and making sure that they know #theymattertoyou #theymattertome .
Thank you so much for your thoughtful interaction here, and as trivial as it sounds, I’m truly, truly sorry for your loss. I also remember the good days, and while they shine a little mistily in that rearview mirror, I know we are creating good days still, days that will be remembered long after we’re gone by our peeps.
Namaste,
Kim
Namaste indeed. (Plodding along…) Have a great Sunday.
Heart-wrenching Kim, but I also enjoyed learning of your love for him and for putting out here for others to share, learn and help understand/prevent/debrief. Thank you so much for sharing Steven with us. My sister is still here, I love her dearly, but she has made attempts and recovered, but travels with ideation which makes me hyper vigilant. Such an important piece.
Paul, this response is so important to me. That’s why I share, in the hopes that it can help someone, somewhere, who has experienced this tragedy in some way, or who might be thinking of it. I’m so glad your sister is a survivor but understand the hypervigilance. I also imagine that she KNOWS #shematterstoyou
Ah, yes she does know which really helps, thank you for your compassionate response (I suspect you must be an empath?) thank you very much Kim ❤️❤️
Oh, you nailed me – empath it is. I say that not in a self-congratulatory way, just as a simple truth. I’m trying to live up to the helpful possibilities it could afford me in terms of supporting others. It’s not enough to understand how people feel, but one must support them in those feelings to be truly worthy. #goals
Wonderful, I so agree Kim, this is encouraging to say the least.