The Joy of the Death Wish

It started with

eyeing up

bends in the road,

realising how easy it would be

to lose control

and crash.

I was caught between fear and desire.

Then kitchen knives became threatening,

the sharp edge glinted knowingly.

I imagined plunging the blade

deep into my breastbone,

wondered how it would sound.

I looked at the picture frames hanging

on the wall,

closed my eyes 

against the urge

to smash the glass,

redecorate in red.

I wanted to die.

I had a death wish.

I have a life wish.

I want to live.

The fantail

invites me to dance,

circling around me

singing my name.

The sun

keeps shining

day and night, without fail

putting on a shadow play.

I tell them my secret:

I have come to an end

and I don’t know how to begin again.

The ocean

laughs.

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