I remember the frantic
clicking, as I searched for
early morning plane tickets
and gravity-bending
euthanasia.
To walk a golden path,
strangers perceiving me
as a metaphor to be
bookmarked, a lost cause
to be interviewed,
heavy winds disrupting the
stillness of the bay and any
chance at redemption.
The seagreen water -
a portal to a self-induced
coma, the surface hitting
me like cinder blocks,
regrets obliterated.
But, the steel beams only
meet me in my dreams.
I haven't made it to
the catacombs yet;
the drama and romance
of death is criminal,
and I know,
I cannot be weightless in the
air,
at least, not in the way I
begged for.
_______________________________
Inspired by the poem "The View from Halfway Down" from the show Bojack Horseman, and just the episode in general (Season 6, Episode 15).
