IT

More often than I should, I think about it.
About, just how conveniently it would cease all my worries.
About, how going through just another day will not feel like a mammoth task.
About, how easy and peaceful it would be  
About, how this pain in my being would stop suddenly.
About, how much it would devastate my family.
About, how my breathing and beating would cease.
About, how nothing would matter. That all that mattered would be lost. Forever.

But, I carry the pieces my life and myself.
I stitch and sew.
I mend and bend.
And move, I do. Move to find what eludes me most.

And I do think about it, still, more often than I should.