| Bits & Pieces | ✔

XXXIII

/Wild soul/

I want to die
but
I am not tired of living

I am suicidal

not because I hold a gun

but

for whenever I cross the street

I hope a car hits me

Yet I won't take my life
because I know that it's selfish
and that there's still so much to live

And the promise of freedom

and adventure

and wilderness

is what drives me insane

and gives me hope

all at the same

And although death is secure

Life is full of options

(and surprises and mysteries and laughter and tears and bruises and—)

Every ounce of me wants to live

truly live

but if that's impossible
then I don't want to breathe at all

For my lungs ache for mountain air

and my eyes ache for endless horizons

and my feet ache for deserts
(and valleys and forest creeks and highways and–)

I'm like an animal in a zoo

caged in my own life

and there's nothing I can do to change it

But I need to feel the wind whipping my face
and the waterfalls crashing down on my skin

for my soul is wild

and if I don't set it free

it will kill me.