Dry
Empty
Running out
Of alcohol.

And I finally understand “purple mountain majesties,”
as I sit here on my perch.

And behind me: that woman with the white hair,
like sails of the boats in the bay, or wings of the swans in my mind,
red pocketbook;
red lips dripping with hope.

I think someone forgot her.

Or maybe she is content.
Maybe she sees the world’s majesties, too….

But her swiveling head tells me otherwise.

I ask if she has a pen to lend me.
Her eyes become glass
as her third eye scrunches into an asterisk:

“No, dear, I’m so sorry. I don’t….”

My teeth and tongue lick the air with sympathy:
“No worries, ma’am. Thank you.”

I slide back to my rock and ask the slivered moon for her company.
I feel regret that everybody leaves with the sun,
as if the show is over.
But with skies still blue,
and moon always dancing,
it has only just begun.

I sniff the cold in.
Vicinity barren;
If I were to fall, nobody would know.
I would slip beyond this world
and find an orchestra of
silence in the sea.

I sit here wondering where the birds go.

Turning my head right
vertigo lops me upside the head.
The waves have rocked my mind to the point where I feel
I might
actually
fall.

Somehow,
that would be alright.
Somehow,
I would be okay.

Because maybe then
I won’t have to see
the vivid pained look in people’s eyes.
Like that beautiful abandoned woman
with the wing-white hair
and her hopeful red pocketbook.

I'm writing you this letter
So my life is not a lie
I'm writing you this letter
So that I may say goodbye
Please don't shed any tears
This is what I want
Life is too hard
Its not your fault
I'm in need of a friend
Someone who will help me through
I'm in need of someone who was as good to me as you

I look down at the yellow tiles
I trace the orange petals with my eyes
The bucket is on the floor next to the toilet
I'll be right out turns into on of my biggest lies
I feel a breeze from the window
And close the vent that resides in its center
The snow is glistening in the moonlight
Such a lonely winter..

I pull down the shade
It wraps around itself like an old scroll
There's footsteps, loud and strong, coming from down the hall
Shhh
Deep breaths

The paint on the wall is flaking
Like my sanity, it withers away
There's a voice inside my head that keeps telling me to stay
It wreaks of *****
Hair clogs the drain on the floor
I'm going to do this
Lock the door**

I retrieve the ammonia
And pour it into the bucket of bleach
The room is small and the maximum capacity of one has been reached
Something comes out of the bucket
A cloud of gas
Finally something will carry me home
Freedom alas

The room starts to fill
My lungs start to burn
It's taking so long
Death is all I yearn

What if someone found me
What if I break their heart
Maybe I shouldn't do this
It could tear them apart
So I dump out my concoction
And I walk away
No one ever found out
And I lived another day

I hate airplanes.
I hate them
More than
Anything
I've ever hated.

Except the flight
From Dulles
To Ft. Lauderdale.
I like that.

Especially at night
When it feels like
Stars
Can be caught with
A thin fishing line
Twenty feet away

And eventually you
Go off the mainland
And can't tell where
The water starts
Or
The stars stop.

Then you see a
Sudden line of lights below
And beyond that
An infinity of bright bursts
Of lights
And lamps.

All darkness,
Then suddenly
Light.

I really hate planes.

But not the flight
From Dulles
To Ft. Lauderdale
At night.
I love that.