As I sat on a denim-stained pleather couch
In a third floor apartment I called high water.
A smart phone caller ID played dumb
While a shaky thumb cut the noose around my neck
And dropped me into that icy water that felt so real.
I have never felt so alive, but there I was being reminded
That by 11:50am, I was dying.
So these hopes better keep me lifted while I am trying
Not to drown in all these cells that surely keep dividing.
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