How I Died

In the hour of your deepest need you are utterly alone. When you stand at the rivers edge ready to jump it is only the distant echo of a feeling that the world itself is good that holds you back and makes you turn on your heel to again roam the urban streets at wet night, not sought after by anyone, not missed nor loved, but abandoned, ridiculed, tortured and mocked by those you trusted. Yet in this hour of greatest need of your most unbearable pain you make your bitter tears a promise to your fellow humans - your greatest enemies. That should the hour of their need come you will be there to extend your hand and let them know that they are not alone themselves. So life turns around itself and we make our self what we felt was worth turning our step for. I walk barefoot and completely soul naked on the blade that cuts my innerst core wanting to die and leave my old self behind at the dawn of another morning. Who will I be when I wake up? I don't yet want to know, night is not over, time has not turned into another day. Only gulls are crowing in the cold dark: "Don't turn back, close your eyes and keep walking. Be it dark be it scary. Either you find your end or you will be at a different path sooner or later." And I answer them, answer how I doubt that difference brings peace. Yet I raise my ten ton feet in stubborn anger. Surely this must be a dream, a nightmare.. and the crowgulls laugh and laugh and laugh.