A Walk in the Park

Claudia Wysocky

TW: Suicidal Ideation

They said it would be easy,

a simple walk in the park.

But I knew better,

with each step came a pounding in my head,

a weight around my arms,

a vice around my throat.

I couldn't keep going,

but I had to,

forced to press on,

choking on the heaviness that dragged me down.

The final ascent seemed insurmountable,

the end a distant dream,

but I fought for each breath,

clutching at each haggard breath,

ignoring the whispers of failure,

trusting in the echoes of triumph within me.

I was close, so close,

my goal within reach,

until—

"Lovely day in the park, isn't it?"

Yes, it was,

I am most definitely in a park on a lovely,

sunny day,

with flowers blooming all around me,

birds singing and children laughing,

and a soft, cool breeze washing over my skin,

and—

"A death walk? Haha, how ironic."

The echoes fade,

and I am left standing,

alone, in the park,

breathing deep and laughing,

in the quiet moments—

the moments of peace and clarity,

those that I fight for,

but I am alive,

breathing,

and maybe—

maybe—

I should just enjoy it,

My little walk in the park.