Let me do this. I shout internally
From the outside, through a gloomy window pain
The silent static of stormy suffering
What am even I doing here?

Begging, pleading with myself
Just do it. Just let it all end.
I can't, I reply. There is too much at stake
Funny, for such a waste of space.

Outside the window earth keeps turning
Flowers keep growing, colors bleed into the fabric of time
To only reach out and touch, I would be convinced
There has to be more than these four walls

Empty room and impending doom.