I left a letter on the dresser that said
I'd never return
hoping to wind up like those
poor runaways
found on the side of the road
beaten, broken... dead
I laugh at the thought as I pack my bag
walk out the front door
dog looking at me with droopy ears
knowing what I'm doing
light my cigarette and burn
all of my hoverboard dreams
as I plot my life's demise
I'm sure it's better this way
what better way
to end it all
but saying that Hudson vanished
without a trace
and that's all she wrote
of course, that's not the case
I still have a few more
questions to answer
while I make it along this highway
in the rain
no hitchhiking, perhaps
I'll catch pneumonia
...that's wishful thinking
my brain is finally simmering down
nothing left to think now
except the fact that my depression
has caught up with me
and I'm on the verge of caving in
but then again
I was always
fucked up
in the first place

knapsack across my back
and I'm staring at the sewer
with endless waters, staring back at me
asking me to "jump in"
hell, why not
the current + the altitude
including the temperature drop
and I might freeze quickly
sink to the bottom
and that will be all she wrote
after all