gutter rat

Hardly wish for death,
nor do I wish to ask time to pause.
What I do wish is to know why
I am wishing at all,
to understand the reason
of my wanting to escape life.

My head is perfectly sane, I believe,
and it is also aware
that there can be no other route than this.
It would be one or the other,
and would be followed by one after another.

Does reality shape our consciousness,
or is it our heads that invent reality?

Trying to find the core,
fighting with sharpened intentions,
and yet we're thrusting blindly like a gutter rat.
Running head first to a trap specially built for our comfort.

]s$t[
Oct 3,2009