The Decision.

Can't you feel it?
Wouldn't it feel good, the air rushing past you as you fall to your-
No.
Staring at the knife, dreaming as you part skin and bone, watching the blood flow-
No....
Denial.  You can't take it.  Dreams, so vividly you dream...

Placing the rope around your neck. Bracing for it, then kicking the chair aside.
Staring at the prescription bottle, before unscrewing the cap and gulping them all down.
Holding the ice-cold gun to your head, taking a deep breath, pulling the trigger...

You write your letter, your untimely farewell to those that you loved.  

Even as you write and rewrite,
Erase and revise,
You know in your heart they didn't love you back.

They never could.  

Slowly, you lay your pen down, staring unseeing at the slightly crumpled paper.

You can't do this.  You can't take it anymore.  You want out.

But it never was easy, was it?
No. But it never was this hard, either.

You shove away from your desk, in agony.

You want it to end.   All the pain in this messed up world can't amount to this.

Nothing can amount to this.

Reviews

[Ebb and Flow]

And this poem describes how sometimes I feel. All too often these same emotions well inside and rage in me.