Think About It

I've thought about it.
I'm not afraid to say that I have thought about it
because I am not afraid to think.
I am not scared to admit
that I think about it often.
Not about how I would, or when or where,
just...it, in itself, as a thing.
I think about it and it makes me wonder
why I bother getting up
when it would be so easy to sleep forever.
Why I bother saying anything back
when I could be silent for all time.
It's so easy to extinguish the life we are given,
the time we are handed
with which to do as we please.
It's to easy just to say
'I give up'
and then say nothing else.
I think about it and I wonder
why is it so easy to die?
Why is it so easy to
get yourself out of this situation
that you're living in?
And yet it is hard to live.
It is hard to find something to smile about.
It is hard to find someone to smile with.
It is hard to find somewhere
that you can feel you are yourself.
A place where nobody can say anything
that could touch you.
Where the actions of the ignorant
go right over your head
and you're just left with your own thoughts
and the one person you need by your side.
Why is it so difficult to be this way?
Why is there nothing but struggling along the road
as you fight to keep your head above water?
It is so difficult
and it is so unrewarding to try
that it often gets me thinking
about It.
It. What we should never say.
What we should never feel we must resort to.
It's the last thing a person turns to.
It's the last thing a person tries.
An act of desperation, or should that be
a terrible dawning? A waking mind of unrest?
Have they seen just how difficult it is
to be happy and have nothing to worry about
when you rest your head at night?
Has the struggle outweighed the reward
in their fragile little frames?
They stop fighting the tide
and they stop looking for that person
and they stop moving to that place
and they stop living in this time
and they are silent.
And still.
They do not smile
or think or cry or live or breathe
or know what it is to think about It.
They just do it.
They push themselves and pull themselves
and pull triggers all over their minds
and there is nothing afterwards
that we can comprehend.
We say it is selfish,
and of course that is right.
In that moment you must think of yourself.
Of your own inward agony,
of all the things wrong in your life.
And it is not selfish to hurt.
It is not selfish to feel alone.
It is just frightening.
And if these people thought about it,
like I have, like I am right now,
perhaps they would not do it.
Perhaps they'd struggle on for another day.
I know that I would never do it.
And by you reading this don't think
I ever would or could or should.
It just comes to me,
every now and again,
that it is so easy to do.
So easy to stop yourself feeling.
So easy to empty your head.
And if you could try it
for one day
don't say you wouldn't.
I sure would.
I would try it and come back
and finally know how it feels
and then maybe I could stop wondering.
Stop thinking about it.
And be happy.
In my place.
With my person.
At this time.