i've got -
no question on why you haven't been calling,
all the time in the world for free-falling,
i've got- toes to the edge and your
fingertips on my back, you say
just jump if you like tumbling
into black.

i've got the strength of the wind
against my chest,
resisting the pressure of your push in
this precious fake-friendship test.
well i've got enough willpower for the
two of us alone on this edge,
enough guts to spit my truth into the abyss
and tell you eye-to-cheek that i
will never forgive the things you said.

your finger blades slip into
the spaces between my vertebrae
pressing harder to force the demise i tried
to leave in one of history's darker days.
you'd love to see my face to the ground-
the taste of dirt in my mouth more bitter
than any one of your victory speeches-
shrugging off suicide as one more sin
and some girl you can throw to the preachers.

i've got them telling me to step back from the dropoff
but your bones paralyze me at half-oblivion
half willing to fight to survive;
your weight crippling my back into complete
energy dissipation as the ground
moves upward to meet the sky.

go tell them your shoes are wet with my blood
and not the tears of my repentance that you
tried to catch. tell them i fought
and found my wits had
met their match, you're my match.

he says nothing, but what he means is:
take more pills, slash a wrist,
i'd strongly recommend suicide.
but if you expect some kind of
hospital treatment, don't expect me
to be your ride.
but you'll be the shove that
throws me into a spinning descent,
eyes steady on my fall until the end-
my twisted snapped spine released
from your hands, heart saying
thanks for being such a great friend.

(2004)