Texas

By Ella Silverman

Sickness stitched life 

into suicide’s lining. This 

mid-August night the 

Amherst outside life smacks 

the window and 

tries pushing in. Fighting 

enlightenment in 

my bed at 

3 am. Feel 

the gun 

pulse 

in the 

box spring. As 

I push through 

it to the climax of 

something. Orgasm 

or flatline,

bear the child or 

shoot, tie the 

knot or walk 

the plank, cut the 

cord or tug the rope, or

go trying. Is 

it better to speak

or to die? – but I find one 

always precedes 

the other.

By Ella Silverman