I want to do it.
Do you dare me?
I’ve put myself there.
In good position.
I’ve stared down the barrel so to speak.
I’ve cracked it open.
I’ve fit the noose.
I’m no longer speaking In metaphors.
I drank too much again.
Finished the bottle.
There was no secret fortune at the bottom.
Guess that’s only in cookies.
It’s spinning mania. It’s thick with red wine and cheap beer. I’m quoting myself again. Narcissism.
Thinking too much of myself. I’ve heard selfish a few too many times. Be careful what you say to someone on the edge. Call them selfish again. See what happens.
Step back into oblivion. Step back in time. One two step around the issue. Keep your head down. Don’t make eye contact.
There are two knives in my room. One was made in Germany. The other is my grandfather’s who was German.
I hold the first to my arm. “sometimes i wish I could slash my wrists and end this bull shit put the magnum to my head and threaten to push it until the beds completely red.”
The other says, “Serve God” on the handle.
Maybe I should give the advice a try. Maybe I already have.
I can’t do it with this one. I can’t dishonor my grandfather like that. Fuck honor. I can’t do it with this knife cause I love my grandpa. No need to bring hot buttons like honor into it.
Life is beautiful and is meant to be wrestled with. I’ve come to learn there’s so much beauty in pain. Can’t you see it?
I put down both knives, thinking of my mother’s eyes.
It’s those eyes the ones you can’t forget. It’s the walls speaking with regret. You want to die? Now’s not the time.
Porch lights on and it’s aglow saying things you’ll never know. It’s thick and swirls round your mind.
That songs about a girl who followed through. I should know. I wrote it.
Contemplating is not the same as pulling the trigger. But make sure you leave the safety on.