i think about that sunday
the buildup it was slow
i thought i knew myself
but there is nothing that i know

on my carpet i fell into a heap
numb on the floor
the numbness turned to overwhelm
and i went flying out the door

i walked to the beach
i wonder
who saw me and did not know
death was calling me like thunder
its fruit i wished to sow

on the beach i walked crying
snow above the sand
the waves they ran and crashed and thrashed
grabbing for the land

i sat there for an hour or two
thought of the only solution
listened to the water and music
my mind it had pollution

advil -
you could take it at home
swallow it by the dozen
imagine the feeling of ending it all
end of thoughts buzzing

the advil thought left a minute later
after enjoying a stay in my mind
later when i tell her this part
her face turns concerned and lined

i sprinted and sprinted on the sand like a druggie
til my lungs cried for air
the weather in my head had gotten too muggy
no patience left to spare

the dark and black energy of too many problems
running exerted them all
it was an impulsive notion
body charged and full of gall

i frantically called
the one i knew dear her voice a steadying force
my thoughts were still swarming
eyes wet
voice hoarse

i ran back home
calmly walked back in
a joke about suicidal drowning was made
i could not stand my mother then
did she think this was just a game played?

the days that followed reeked
of the beach and snow and sand
how the tide had always calmed me
but that Sunday it was bland

i told her what i did
about the advil and the urge
and in that moment i dangled
the psych ward on the verge

i did not get sent away
but in ways i can never return
to the time i was unaware of my darkness
a time for which i yearn