It's crossed my mind.
Perhaps more often than I'd like to admit.
The thought of stepping through the door.
If for no other reason than to see what lies on the other side.
It's a two lane road.
The cars are travelling in opposite directions.
Just gotta swerve five feet to the left when you see the next Peterbilt.
Two objects travelling at sixty.
Meeting head on.
To know in an instant what awaits a tortured soul.
Would you remember to put the silver on my eyes?
For the ferryman.
These thoughts aren't birthed by sadness.
It's more of a "I'm bored. What's over here?" feeling.
One day.
One day the Call will shout over the other voices.
The ones that say "what about?"
I can step off into nothing.