I'M Here

I'm here. Right where i belong. The emergency room. Here they can save my life. Stop the blades slicing. Steel blood dripping. Stitch my wrists even. Give me heavy drugs so I can forget I did it at all. Cranberry juice or apple? There goes a wife with a slice of chocolate cheesecake for her "incarcerated" husband. Lots of warm wishes abound. I have no wishes. No cheesecake. No stitches. Caught in the nick of time. For they would have had me downstairs, face and fingernails blue. A grayish pallor, icy and covered by a sheet. I was Just About There. No one knows how close.