Death was never a scary thing. It was like life was a cell and I was being beaten in that cell but the door was unlocked. And I could walk out that door at any time that it became too much. It was soothing knowing the door wasn’t locked, that I had a way out. I would drive aimlessly down the highway and look at the edges and wonder how much I’d have to speed up, what impact I’d need for it to be over quick. And I breathed a sigh of relief when I knew it was an option. Always just there waiting if I needed it. I could walk out into the ether and be hugged by the clouds and my body held tight and I could weep, I could finally weep and be held and it could be over and the clouds would shhhh in my ear and say its ok dear you’re safe now. And I wouldn’t be so alone because there would be others in the clouds. Or I could put my head in the oven and die like Plath, suffocated by the bell jar that lived only in her mind as she was. And I would be free. And then I met a man I wanted to live for, and I tried to break the chains without checking out. Because he held me as I wept and stroked my hair and told me he would carry me through fire to the ends of the earth. Because he made it safe.
But I’m in pain every day and I don’t know why.
And I still know how I would walk out that door.
And I don’t but some days it creeps closer.
And it sparkles like a pearl and beckons like a siren.
And it calls for me. And I know beyond it lies release.
But I need him. And there are so many lives I’ve yet to live.
And the one I want is the one with him, in a tower in the clouds.
Laughs and Lobotomies 