steel cold hard air slaps you in the face as you
awake for the somethingth time. you drag yourself
out of bed and drop right into the steel chairs
rolling about in your office, a resounding ring
echoing around the room. but with their grey faces,
they couldn’t care less. you work work work work
and work, until you finally drop dead back down
to your steel bed.

you never question why. you just do it, for fear
of… you don’t know what you fear. you just feel
a steel knife pressed hard to your neck, the edge
cold and slick against your sweat, ringing in your
ears a perfect harmony of death and life, a
sweet sweet sound of release, yet binding you to
this thing called reality

you don’t want to feel that way. you don’t want
to roll into every single day the same way you’ve
done every year you’ve existed (lived?). you want
a rhythm to your life, ups and downs and lefts and
rights, a waltz, a sonata, a symphony of life. so
you make your own reality.

one day, you just don’t wake up. you cling on to
a dream, something so rare, so beautiful and so
powerful. you hang on for dear life, yet not afraid
to fall into the abyss below, the black arms
reaching up to reach you, catch you. you stand
on your dream. you jump.

a flood of something shoots up your spine
apparently called emotions, and your muscles
tense up, as you fall fall fall and you’ve never
felt better, never felt so alive in your life. you
close your eyes, feel the wind whip your hair
in a flurry, your limbs limp by your side.

you feel happy. a smile creeps into a blazing
bout of laughter, ringing in the abyss like the sun
in the bleached sky, the rocks yellow and blue and
pink, a beautiful height of ecstasy, no trace of
grey steel at all, only you and the world.

you fall, and fall still. your dream. your reality.

they can only see a body splayed on the floor,
eyes bleeding pink yellow blue, limbs twisted
and bent, and a gigantic grin frozen onto a
background of fading light