Talking to walls, befriending floors;
These are the things that get me through.
But now walls shrink away, and floors groan at my passing.
I am not welcome in my own house.
I say “house” because I am aware of the connotation of “home”.
Home is safe. Home gives solace.
I am not safe in this place. There is no solace.
My death is in the darkest places.
You weep at these words, yet I welcome them with open arms.
For the death that I seek is not one by beast or man.
My death shall be a death by will.
As I force the life from my body,
And watch the haze overtake me,
The door will close, and the world will forget.