I’d slowly start selling my things,
never too much at once to alert someone of my plans.
I’d make sure all of my debts are paid, so that burden falls on me alone.
I’d tell everyone I love them as inconspicuously as possible,
not giving them evidence that I’ve given up.
Then I’d run.
I’d charge into the sunset to rest amongst the clouds.
I fantasize about it so often I can almost feel it: the freedom of leaving a life I no longer know how to navigate.
I can taste the sweetness of it on my tongue, feel the relief in my bones.
I could let it all go and meet whatever is waiting for me on the other side.
What if it’s dark, desolate?
An empty wasteland, a mirror version of the life I tried so hard to evade?
What if there’s no relief in dying either?
Is my pain a tether to my soul, or will I rid of it when I part this vessel?
I have no hope:
not in this life
not even in death.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 10:37 PM UTC
I’d slowly start selling my things,
never too much at once to alert someone of my plans.
I’d make sure all of my debts are paid, so that burden falls on me alone.
I’d tell everyone I love them as inconspicuously as possible,
not giving them evidence that I’ve given up.
Then I’d run.
I’d charge into the sunset to rest amongst the clouds.
I fantasize about it so often I can almost feel it: the freedom of leaving a life I no longer know how to navigate.
I can taste the sweetness of it on my tongue, feel the relief in my bones.
I could let it all go and meet whatever is waiting for me on the other side.
What if it’s dark, desolate?
An empty wasteland, a mirror version of the life I tried so hard to evade?
What if there’s no relief in dying either?
Is my pain a tether to my soul, or will I rid of it when I part this vessel?
I have no hope:
not in this life
not even in death.
