I look to the road and recite the pros and cons.
I wouldn't need to feel the awful way that I feel.
Call myself fat and ugly.
I'd stop the self pity, show people that it's not a joke.
I would listen to "it can't last" while slowly pondering. Would it end today?
Looking out, wishing it was raining down upon me, make the feeling last, just long enough for commitment.
But it never rains when i wish it, and the sun never shines when I need it.
The weather never fits the mood and the mood never fits the weather.
I can't control the weather but I can control the jump.
I cannot control if it be fatal, but I can decide.
The mental state.
I don't want others to feel guilty or pity, just to think twice before doing.
I remember when I wished to be hospitalized, just to make it easier to speak to the ones that I've missed and loved.
I remember wishing I was dead, so I wouldn't be forgotten.
I remember wishing to be invited, just before it would be to late.
I look to the tracks and wonder, would it stop for me? Would it change the plans just to save me?
Or would it drive on, doing the taste it was given
I kick the dead daffodils and wish that the love was stronger than the heavy lift of pain. Tugging at my shoulders as I try to ascend the deep pit of never ending suffering.
Before I made the mistake.