Eject
Wetsuit diver on the edge
plunging backwards.
A vein slit vertical.
Cold water. Cold water.
Sink into that deep unknown.
The jettison motor aborts
launch escape systems.
Spiraling, spiraling, fast.
There is no more fuel,
just the big black forever.
Space. No breathing room.
No need to pump gallons.
Get rid of them, become light.
Like a gun flashed to the cops,
and the magazine falls,
there is no come back.
Slip past the precipice.
Cross a point of no return.
Cold water. Cold water.
From such great heights
a plummet is more beautiful,
a little slower, a little more
to ponder. Spiraling, fast.
But not too long. Quick enough
to be convicted. To be sure.
A heavy hand goes weightless
with the freedom of abandon,
purity of decision, descent.
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* this is not written from my pov. It’s a poem written to capture the feeling of “eject” or “doing a bad damaging/irreversible thing from impulse”. Not condoning doing bad damaging/ irreversible things. Just don’t want to be misinterpreted lmao