She stood there, thrilled
By her recently acquired knowledge;
She could step in front of the train.
She probably wouldn’t die.

A sadness overwhelmed her
As sheer common sense held her back;
One foot away, it passed by.
She had been too late.

She remembered how it once was,
Seconds and seconds ago, she’d just stood;
She’d thought of nothing when it struck her,
Mightily empty half-end to her life.

Naturally, she also remembered
The future, in which all her friends had died;
She alone remained in the now.
One grain caught in the neck of the hourglass.

The coming and passing of people
She knew to be different from that of clouds;
They know that, in fact, there isn’t anything to do.
She was static and silent.

And so she decided to board.
No pair of eyes ever reached hers;
Too scared to see the truth in the machine
Of her finely devised photography.

Thirteen hours passed.
She stepped outside to mingle with the crowd;
It consisted of one businessman with a suitcase,
Whose interest rates were zero.

She walked into what was
To be night, lighter than day;
Headphones at max volume were allowed.
She listened intensely.

She slowed down to look
Across the water below her and concrete;
She could step off the bridge.
She probably wouldn’t die.

The thought was so erratic,
So far outside society, so lost;
She found it soothing, brilliant even.
She thought once.

She clambered over the rail,
Enjoyed the view, closed her eyes, and went;
Her clothes got heavy, but she got light.
She swam to the sea.