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I hate this feeling. Like I'm here,
but I'm not.
Like someone cares.
But they don't.
Like I belong somewhere else,
anywhere but here,
and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as
the February air.
I considered the streets beyond, bleak as the bleached bones of
wilderness scaffolding my heart. Just a stone's throw away.

Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound.
Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light.
Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeopardy.
Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain.
Act on your impulse,
swallow the bottle,
cut a little deeper,
put the gun to your chest.