We grieve the ones who get out
We even struggle and strive to prolong this
This Living
If we really believe that we have souls
That the source, Heaven, the afterlife
Is so much better, truly
Why wouldn't we be looking for excuses to get out of here
No wonder there are prohibitions against suicide

So it goes like this:
Go attach to this brand new human body
Not even born
Be sure you're there for the first violent rite
The birth
The initial paradox
If you don't die
If you aren't traumatized completely
You cross the starting line
And become dependent on immature others
Who may or may not have invited you
With no choice, control or assent
Mirror and absorb their behavior
Their beliefs and attitudes
They will smile and feed you
Their wholehearted ignorance
Will confuse and confound you

Should it occur to you that something must be amiss
That this does not make sense
That the God they speak of
Cannot possibly be all-loving
And have unchosen children
That the parents who love you
Can abuse and abandon you
It will raise a silent alarm
An anxiety you'll learn to live with

Then try very hard to stay alive
To hang on through disease and disorder
Through despair and betrayal
With a sense after all
That it was a good life
Or if it's cut short
That it was too soon
How can it be too soon?
So they say it's for love
For learning and transcendence
But people live on
In anger and isolation
They hang on and on in pain and fear

The language you're born to
And it's place and class and culture
Will provide you with some explanations
Some rules
They are mostly sincere attempts

​I do know better
But Oh My God
It is so hard sometimes
It helps to know in my bones
That relief will be coming one day
For Everyone.