The Deep End

Before you jump off the deep end,

before stepping onto the tracks,

before slipping away in the comatose haze of drugs or wine,

or any other step you can't take back,

I'd like for you first, to watch,

observe the passage of trial and error-

with curiosity,

with that ugly thing called hope,

and witness the world without you unfold.

You may see the heavy grief of your parents,

the biting anger of your siblings,

or the wild disdain of your lover,

You may notice the speckled light upon the water,

or the weeds that grow resiliently under the railway,

or even find yourself in awe-

of the deep red of liquor caressing, and sleeping, in the curve of the glass.

You may see your body, whatever's left of it,

mangled, forgotten, or brutalized-

by your own hands-

and wonder,

where did all that pain come from?

But in the end,

the choice remains yours.

So plug your nose or turn from the black water,

so sleep on the tracks or let the train go by,

so kiss the glass or set it down,

because the next step-

is yours.