If the night is half lit
and the silence is deafening loud
don't stop on the bridge upon Post Canal.
The shadows are rippling dark
and her water coiling snake
calls you to to take a dip.
It's shallow, says the phosphorent whisper
and the night too warm not to splash,
there's too much pain, the bridge creaks
leave behind, leave behind
you haven't anything to lose.
The winds buzz in your heart
disappear without a sound
nobody will know
nobody will care.
A few feet is not a great fall
and never greater than all the pain
you so silently suffered.
Once I stopped, tempted
almost inviting her to **** me in.
The coils rose and drew me in.
They said I jumped.
They could never know
I made peace with pain.