some people i know don't
blink
at my suicidal ideation, at my
genuine intention
to cease
to be
"i tried to kill myself this morning"
"cool, what'd you have for
breakfast?"
i think about the water
and i think about the people standing
at the lip of the lake
looking down
and in
but never around
they see me drown from time to
time
they watch me die
but tunnel vision prevents them
from seeing my every weary
reincarnation
born again in the tall grass
naked and new
scarless and
blank
alone, a swan quietly observes me
with black eyes
as i grow
behind the backs of the surely
blind
and i stretch my new skin
and i bare my new teeth
and i try
to live
forever failing
skin is too easily shredded
and this body is too easily tired
i wanted to exist for a
second
but none of you were watching
the swan's black eyes become
black feathers become
blackness
and it drives me to the edge of the
lake once more,
right where my friends have been
waiting for
me
when i fall
they soften - this is familiar
this is predictable
maybe i will stay down this time
(they can dream)
but i'm a fool and i have a high
tolerance
for death and decay
so i'll float to the bank and i'll
purge my lungs and
i'll awake
to the dismay of my audience;
to the dismay of the swan
she is white again,
no filth on her feathers
no blood on her beak
she is white
and she is determined to be
the only survivor
next time
i think you all would like that,
wouldn't you?
