The Thought

James Catherson

People stare deep into my looks
My sight hideous bringing disgust to faces 
I feel anxiety throughout, thinking shall I jump

looking down far below the world
The water swishing in the midnight sky
Telling me tonight is my time for death

Garbage dropped far above upon land
Nothing I can do, corned against ledge
Scowled to jump, begged for lesser of me

earth's capacity filled to its extent 
The long drop below fills my soul
The gust of winds move up through me

Words pushing knowing best for me
Toes leaving the long thick metal panel 
Air digging deep through my nostrils causing blood

Head first soaring straight to hell
I awake in a room feeling anxious 
A dream so surreal, have I died tonight?