I reach for the ropeI should reach for the phone,I should reach for the pen, ora book, or go home. Its something of nothing, it is of course.But for me it’s the end can’t do mundane stuff. I could travel to China,I could drive through the night.Mind 5 screaming toddlers,I could even do it with a laugh. See it’s the mundane things,like washing my clothes orrunning upstairs to charge my phone. Like going to work,Now that’s the damdest of all.I could do it, I know, if I can just walk out the door. But the bed,It attracts me and the door is lockedI can’t find my way outI can’t open this lock.What can I do? As I reach for the rope.I feel such relief,no more hard decisionsNo more waitingand waiting to wait. No more restarts.No more life changesNo sympathetic looks, hospital visits, and waiting. I reach for the rope,sure what else can I do?