Is it the end of it all?

A bit of imagination

I can’t push the knife in

I can’t make the cut

I can’t turn the wheel

I can’t step off the kerb

I can’t take the pills

All I can do is imagine

I picture the knife going in

I imagine the lorry hitting

I see the wall racing towards me

I dream of drifting away

Escaping the  empty days

Not enduring the lonely nights

Not having to deal with this

Or cope with them

Or struggle with that

No more thinking

No more worry

No more envy

No more hating myself

No more anger

But there’s no coming back.

By Sudhakar Patel