Pushing back against this impulse
To dive off an over-pass
Into a highway’s late-night traffic -
That way, the cars would be going fast,
And maybe, just maybe,
I’d leave my mark upon Texas...
“If you see something, Say something”
Just broadcast over the bus intercom...
(Perhaps you should call 9-1-1)
I push back against that thought,
Predicting too much harm caused to all...
Yet, so many doors are closing, locking -
And a frenzy is upon me, Dark and heavy...
Another thought -
Just now, while roboting my way
Through another painful appointment:
“Why not return to ASH?
At least, it’s 3 hots and a cot;
While my world crumbles away
And the ashes of my life
Become dust on the wind...”
A wind is blowing,
But it is not born by angel’s wings -
No angel is here to save me,
No miracles await me..