it's nights like these
that my mind becomes my own worst enemy.

when i put on a rope necklace,
and pour myself a tall glass of bleach.

imagining what it would be like to have all the pain stop,
and for the static noise to be silent for once.

it's enough for me to go through the motions,
preparing to end it all.

but i wake up from my trance each time,
realizing the truth of the world.

i undo the clasp of my necklace of rope,
and pour the bleach down a drain.

the razor blades go back in the drawer,
and the pills back in the bottle.

waiting until next time.

it's nights like these where i almost do...
but don't.