#23

Oh, there is no greater comfort
than a hug on the neck
from a perfectly woven rope,
tied delicately and with precision,
ever so gently —
just enough
to take your breath away.

There will be a chair, too,
holding you in ovation,
standing beneath all your grandeur.
It will be there to behold you.
For at that very moment,
among all creation,
you are the tallest.

When you finally take that leap —
that one single, final leap —
the ceiling wouldn’t even exist —
it would cease to.

The bittersweet pills,
the razor, the blade,
the syringes, the bottles of alcohol,
even the edges of highrises —
they, in bated breath, fall into dead silence.
They are envious.

And as for the rest of the world,
they would fall silent in awe.

You’ve finally decided —
you’ve finally taken charge —
you finally had the courage —
you finally, finally —
finally —
took
that one chance.

If only you could’ve heard the faint echo
of the many who whispered from the distant, nearing eternity:

“Encore.”

How much more grand and more bright
your eyes and face would’ve been —
only, only, only —
if —

Maybe you should’ve chosen to stay.

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