content warning suicide

I daydream about Death more

often than I'm allowed to admit.

it's not that she's my ideal type, 

but there is something so alluring
about her eternal rest, about her
mystery, about the hope that a
final breath or not breathing at all 
offers as a contrast to the sticky
sweet poison of this violent society. 

"All 6 trains will be running 
express due to a customer 
injury at Grand Central."

"Please head downstairs."

"Hey how's it going? :)"

not well, I am drowning, and when
I ask for a life raft I'm offered hope
and prayers that never amounted to
much then and never amount to much
now, how is this a fucking life raft?

I cannot be the boat, the buoy, the
stars, and the ocean, I cannot be
like this much longer, I cannot be
like this much longer, I cannot be

I took the 6 to the 4 because of a
customer injury, pressed tight in
between neighbors I may never 
see again, transferred to the W 
that came right on time only for 
the train to roll over a bump, and

I wondered if it was me, this bump, 
travelers more concerned about 
their commute to whatever next
checkpoint of exploitation and pain
awaited them, more concerned about
survival than the passing over of...

I took the 6 to the 4 because of
someone's willingness to sacrifice me, 
and those around them, for what
perceived temporary safety from violence?
knowing that if this bump wasn't me, and

it was you, you yourself wouldn't stop, 
wouldn't pause, wouldn't inquire.
you'd take the 6 to the 4 to the W.
you'd keep yourself safe, because
"we" is only as meaningful as the
applied value of community care.

I daydream about Death more
often than I'm allowed to admit.

it's not that she's my ideal type, 
but there is something so clear
in the safety she offers, about her
values, about the hope that a
final breath or not breathing at all 
offers as a contrast to the sticky
sweet poison of this violent society.