Reflections upon the Past

My infant son lies near me,

Powerful evidence of what is

But tonight my thoughts turn

Backward, to what was

My intentions were not clear that night

Did I desire to die?
Or just to leave this life?

If I wanted to die, why tell?

But if not, why put knife to wrist?

Not once, but several times

I searched for veins

But then came the pounding...

No friend ever knocked like that.

I was angry. I hated them

For coming to my door

Perhaps I did mean to succeed, then
I was so tired after that

Tired physically, oh yes -

I lost a good bit of blood

But more than that

So tired of half-trying

Of wanting and not wanting

Of falling and not caring

Of looks, and smiles, and lies

I wanted them to be over

They would have ended with my life.