the swan dive in my head

Staring out at the weekend bustle of the city. I shake my head at my life. The cars meandering through the maze of the night. Horns in the distance. I take a drink of gin and choke it down. It triggers the thoughts of pine needles and drunken summer nights. I watch the lights flickering and I think of you. Beautiful and barren and lost. I want to hold you. Too stop you. Too save you from yourself. I want to jump. I want to burst through the glass of The Brown Hotel into the streets below. Let the traffic devour me and the horse and carriage crush my bleeding remains. Cracking bone and leaking blood and marrow onto the fucking streets.

But more than anything I want to beg you. I want to bruise my knees with the force of my fall and beg you to look into my eyes and know that I am your soul. That I will protect you from this world and all your faults will be safe in my arms.

But I won't. I'll sit here and drink in this window. Looking down on the world. Imaging the swan dive in my head.