Hanging Poem by Jeremiah JamesNolan Knight

I stand.
I stand with confidence that this is the way to go.
I stand on the chair and guided the rope around my neck like I was a map and compass working together.
I look down.
I look up.
Where am I going to go?
Hell or heaven?
Is there even a hell or heaven?
Is it just black?
I push the chair from underneath my feet away from existence.
As I fall, I felt the rope getting tighter and tighter.
A slight tug.
Just around my neck.
That's all.
That's all I felt.
Well; It was the last thing I felt in my so called life.