What If?

After I jump,
everything in my life will be fixable
except that I jumped.

Four seconds and 225 feet from now
I’ll be reduced to a statistic.

But, what if I don’t jump?

What if I lay my head on the pillow tonight
beside my tired but beautiful wife
and run my fingers through her hair?

What if my cat jumps onto my chest
and lingers there
driving his little paws into my flesh
sniffing my bad breath?

What if I step down
from my stupid soapbox
to the sound of critical silence
after reading a preachy poem
only to have my best friend lean over and whisper:

I am proud of you

—–
*This is a rewrite of a previous poem in an effort to improve.

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