Ziggurat, or something.

I could kill myself, I won't.
But I get it.
If I could be assured a reasonable chance
of hurtling through the cosmos,
I would probably take it.
If I could be assured a reasonable chance
of seeing something interesting,
truly interesting;
something huge, different, vague, unknowable,
something beyond my comprehension.
I'd take it.
I'd cut off my own fucking head.
I want to die.
Pretty often.
I watch a tree get nearer to me,
as I drive.
I stand on a roof and feel the excitement build
in my feet
in my shoulders
in my balls.
I could kill myself.
I could die, just like everyone else,
finally convince myself that I'm no fucking different,
that I'm not special, that I'm not real.
To the people that don't know me.
I'm like everyone else,
I don't matter.
I'm just a mote.
In the darkness floating.
Amidst the chaos and nothing of it all.
And though I think it's bullshit,
here I find hope,
in the is not.
I am, in the is not, and it is, though I am not.
And it's ok.