Speaking of Emo...

Mention suicide once

and everyone wants to "help."

I could be doing something useful

loading a gun, for instance

or sharpening knives

perhaps drawing detailed images

of local bridges and

freeway overpasses.

I should be wearing all of my jewelry

and walking alone in a

dark alleyway

or semi-deserted park

in the very late evening.

Everyone wants to "talk about it"

but I haven't the time

becasue there are brake lines that

need cutting

and warm baths to draw

and straight razors to purchase

with maxed-out credit cards.

The psychiastrist says

"We have drugs for that, you know"

and I smile

and say that I do.