Test

I tried it.

I put the belt around my neck and I tried it.

I leaned forward.

I pulled, until it was right, until it was tight.

I pushed forward.

I ignored sounds, taste, sight.

I pushed forward.

It was tighter.

Harder to breathe.

I wanted to know how it would feel. How it would be if I just leant forward.

Things got harder.

Breath gets shallower.

My neck burns, blue bruises and my brain can’t compute.

Spots. My eyes. Drown.

Is this what I wanted?

If I jumped from the ledge, with this noose on my neck, would it be better?

Would I feel empty? Clear? Free?

Or am I losing my grip on what’s real and what’s fantasy.

If I stop, if I think, I know people care. I know people love me, care.

In this moment, the belt, tight around my neck, I’m not sure.

I forget.

I’ve forgotten.

I lean too far.

Can I go back?

Everything is tingling.

Where is my control?

I have none.

It’s gone.

I’m gone.

Was I ever here?