make sense

take a deep breath and dive.
wouldn't that be nice
would it not be perfect in its simplicity
wouldn't you just like that?

that bitter taste on the tip of your tongue,
that constant headache that won't subside,
the gut wrenching fear circling you,
that scream you've just stifled
or the way your wrists burn
because the rope finally cut into the flesh.
I wish I could tell you it's all in your head
but we both know I'd be lying.

scattered is an understatement
and at this point
metaphors don't do much for the soul
so why bother?
why try and make sense of it all
when sanity is clearly at stake
and the weather man is forecasting hailstorms?

because ego is stupid like that
and sheer stubbornness trumps the preservation instinct.