The Optomist

A day in my head

It's a kitchen, rectangles and geometries

It has sinks, cabinets, mixers, spoons, and knives

A knife, for meat and vegetables, a tool

In their eyes

I see death calling, as if a phone or speaker

Calling my name, calling with that metallic gleam

The oven in the corner

For cookies and sweets

But I see Sylvia, I see Anne

Breathing invisibles, like anesthesia

I see sleep, I see sleep

My mind asks what ifs

What if I drove into a tree

What if I simply closed my eyes

It would not be suicide if it were an accident

What if I stop breathing, and surrender

What if I'm just done here

Nothing left to do now

Would my heart stop for me

Would it be merciful

The questions circle my head

The possible actions play out in an infinite reel

Like some dark cinema

And I'm tied to the chair

And yet, all this, and I have no reason to wish it

I have no excuse, no pass, no explanation

Like air it is simply there

Without reason, it exists because it does

As I do, without reason

whether rain falls or sun beats

It is there like bad memory

Like a scar, like a foot

It is a voice telling me how

Like a child dare

Can you do it, can you do it

It's as simple as air, air, air

Let it leave the lungs and keep it there

Oh how easy it is

But I do not want to die

The reaper wants me

When he calls my name

As I'm under his spell

When in games I jump of cliffs

Or fall beneath the waves

Over and over replayed

Like a sickening sweet dream

It is not me anymore

I do not wish to die

But the dream becomes real

When I'm holding the knife

Pressing it to skin

As if some itch were present

I resist, I resist

But the other insists

How long would it take

How much would it hurt

Would mother be mad

Would she be mad

Why do I want to die

When really I do not want to die

I am not neurotic

Yet I'm necrotic

And no one even knows

But me

In the kitchen, in the bathroom.

In my dreams, in my head

I see death as if it were walls themselves

Staring from all directions

I am caged, I am trapped

I do not wish to be here

Everyday's a killer waiting

Waiting for me to loose

Waiting for me to succeed

Author's Note

Do not worry, I am fine. This is just talking about how I contemplate death frequently, but I assure you I'm ok.