ColoradoElliot

Suicide A sunny warm day in a modern downtown Suits, ties, yuppies scurrying about On the grass, just below the bridge I was crossing, a man paced. At first I thought he was covered in paint.  Maybe it was makeup. I looked at the passing suits and back at the man. He paced on the grass, arms, neck and shirt dark with blood. I looked at the suits again.  Surely if it were real, they would see. They did not.  Then I saw the knife in his back pocket and the broken skin on the neck. The wrists I could understand.  How could you slit your own throat and not die?  How could you stab your chest and miss you heart?  I looked at the suits and they mar