Suicide Is Always An Option Part 1
I’ve heard it whispered in the break room
scribbled on a bathroom stall in shaky pen
Said quiet in late night kitchens when the day comes back again
That line about an exit sitting way out on the edge of town
Like a fire alarm behind glass you hope you never have to pound down.
Some nights when the walls lean inward and the clock feels like a dare
When the bills stack up like concrete and the air turns thin and bare
I can feel that sentence flicker at the edge of my tired mind
Like a locked door at the end of a hallway I don’t plan to find.
Hook
They say suicide is always an option out past the last red light
Some brutal kind of comfort in a world that doesn’t treat you right
But if that’s the final doorway I refuse to let it be my first
I’ll work my way back through the smaller exits long before the worst.
Quit the job that’s killing me in twelve slow unpaid cuts
Walk away from every room that only calls me weak or nuts
Drop the mask for half an hour
let the tears run hot and clear
Tell the truth to someone breathing instead of yelling it at fear.
Change the city, change the number
block the poison in my phone
Trade the lonely silence for one real human tone
Rage at every quiet rule that says I have to stay in place
Tear up all the scripts that trained me to keep swallowing this taste.
Hook
They say suicide is always an option out beyond the last dead road
A final loaded silence when you can’t lift any more load
But if that’s the farthest border I keep it locked behind thick glass
And start by choosing smaller freedoms every time the shadows mass.
I am not a cage they built
I’m not their bottom line or chart
I am not this month’s past due
I’m not just one cracked heart
If the loudest thought says “end it
” I’ll drag my focus to the side
List the things I haven’t tried yet
the things I won’t let slide.
I can walk out of this hallway long before I reach that door
Drop the keys on some cheap table and not come back here anymore
Tell the friend I’ve been protecting from the mess inside my head
“Listen, I’m not fine tonight
I need you to hear what I just said.”
I can scream into a pillow
write the ugliest words I own
Hand them to a stranger paid to help
admit I can’t do this alone
Let the pieces hit the floor instead of pushing till I break
Treat my staying one more morning as a loud
defiant stake.