Cold, but unusually warm winter day.
Early December. Bleak.
The wind at my face as i fell vertical.
13, 12, 11... how many floors must i fall before i
realize this was a mistake.
It only took a minute, but the images in my mind
lasted forever.
White light. It ended.
The red stains the pavement.
No note, only this poem.
Sorry i couldn't do better or tell you why the
chemicals in my brain are unbalanced.
Science was never my strong suit.
Neither was talking about my emotional issues.
Shhh, don't cry for me.
It's better now that i am away.
No need to worry about how i'm feeling or
where i'm going. I'm sure there's a place for me yet.
I'm mostly sorry for the gap and debt i've left behind.
What you never noticed is that i was dying inside anyways.
I just couldnt pull the trigger.
