let's say these things

The air is heavy with the apprehension of emotional bloodshed;
that is how psychiatrist offices are
Then that questions, always that one:
why?

I can cut my life down to the chase and
explain to you the most important things
in a course less than
five minutes.

I could tell you the weeks I began
losing my mind, and how blood looks
in the bathtub, pulling, reaching, entangling
itself into the water, as if seeking consolation
(and finding none)

I could tell you "my story,"
but it's still in the making
and scars are just dog-eared
pages peeking back into
the past