leaving and living
I am on the edge of the bridge,
I taste the gun in my mouth,
I am counting the pills in my hand,
I am looking at the train rails,
I feel the coldness of the steel on my arm,
What a point to be!
What a place to be!
How did I get here?
What took me here?
Suicide as an option,
Who would have thought it?
Suicide with multiple forms,
Who could imagine it?
Closing a door without its key,
Who knew could add to the list?
Who am I killing?
Which world am I giving up on?
What causes me this pain?
What motivates me?
This must only be a fantasy,
Why does it scare me then?
I am holding the doorknob,
I am one door away from my birth,
One door away from my death,
There are not two opposites,
But the same.
One who does not react to anything,
No other force than its own,
Who is that?
Is one who is defeated?
Is one who is victorious?
I don’t want to do any of this,
One says,
Is it someone giving up on life?
Or is it someone making a claim on life?
One who is not moved by anything,
Is it a coward?
Or is it a hero?
I walk and walk,
Day and night,
Dark and light,
I see faces,
I see trees,
All mute,
All deaf.
Why is there nobody?
Suicide is a choice,
Where freedom is not,
Suicide is a decision,
Where breathing is not,
Suicide is existing,
Where one does not.
I am leaving,
Where I do not feel living.
Because I love living.
I made a choice,
Now I am breathing.