an attempt to tip the scales

i wonder what it felt like to do that.
to turn your back on everything you knew
to scoop the remaining shards of your hope and your belief out of your chest cavity and stomp them into the ground.
i bet you toyed with the line for a while first.

i bet you meticulously considered your every move,
watched the scene play out in the dark behind your eyelids.
were you afraid?

i think this was something you had to do.
i don't know if every part of your body was screaming in protest or if it was egging you on.
were your toes and your nose and the mitochondria in your cells aware of what was happening?

i don't think this was about her at all.
i think it was between you and your back and turning your back and being finished bending over backwards.

does that moment replay and replay?
maybe not the moment it happened but the sequence of moments leading up to it.
the moment you first doubted and the moments you tried to fight it.

i think your story is a lot more heroic than it sounds.
and there is a lot more to it than your hair or the tattoo.

i just wonder,
did you have your eyes closed when you ended the world?