There are all kinds of escapes
Some will get you out of a few cuts and scrapes
It’s the other ones —
Dancing and wielding the razors edge
Looking up at the beam above your bed
Drinking till you lose your head
Popping pills, wishing you were dead
Dangerously teetering near a precipice
Waiting for the breeze to topple and crush
Could it be that easy?
The greatest escape of all?
Crossing Over?
Leaving that causes such grieving
So, escape if you must
But TRUST it’s a selfish mistake you are making.

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