I fantasize about hanging myself in the shower
i'm not afraid to die
they think i have strength
and maybe i do, but even the strongest surely
feel like slitting their wrists
smiling peacefully with the thought
my face swollen purple and shades
of brilliant lilac, azure, and reddened like the sun
setting, fading
in time with my last breaths
choking, i can't imagine the pain
though i don't think i would mind it
those last few moments
i would feel so alive
until my skin would chill and flake
like bleech, perhaps tainted with a mellow yellow
no one would be able to save me
and that's okay
my soul would pull out from inside
and float wherever souls go when they've lost
their fleshy homes
and how my body would stiffen
muscles rigid, rigor mortis
i know all about you because i took anatomy
and i never could disect the frog
i didn't even go that day
but when i'm dead, disect me
i never have to know
and isn't that pleasant?
swinging on my noose, no breeze...
just swinging
