i was barely breathing.
was it my heart, my brain, or my balls>
that whispered nonsense?
something inside me confessed:
i was wrong, wrong the whole time.
i mapped every failing,
each fiction rooted in mistaken belief,
saw the dead blossoms of my ground agreements,
my ego fighting the light
at the edge of being and truth.
i brought home an apology,
some bling-bling, an act of chivalry,
a small sacrifice.
i put my heart in front of me,
and welcomed the void.
drove around just before sunset,
parked by the bridge.
i thought: which of its sides would take me?
climbed the catwalk facing the sea, and i sat.
as i thought through what i was about to do,
i made sure to speak clear words:
"i release anger, resentment, stupidity.
let me seek power, nobility, strength, and wealth."
and as i said it, i jumped.
some version of myself now drifts
between the river and the sea,
beside the bodies of those who leapt
to end their illusion
under the pillars of the suicide bridge—
same same, our secret symmetry.
