She took a moment to pause and ponder
one lonesome, dreary night
the consequences of her untimely death
that would end a hidden plight

One that had interlaced itself in her a while ago
that she had forced to silence and lull
but that enlivens itself at times like these
when she is feeling awfully dull

And so the shadow had visited her again that somber night
and in her, it forced her to see
the careful steps to her self-planned death
had she chosen to agree

It asked her, "Do you believe anyone would care?"
and to that she murmured, "Maybe."
In her head appeared images of remorseful Facebook posts
like those sent to a deceased boy in the same class as she

"But the frequency of those posts would decline," it said,
"as the topic of your death no longer became a care.
No one would mourn for your soul anymore,
and no one would shed a tear."

"Your friends will move on with their lives in time,
your family will eventually cope.
Your lover will find another love,
one not filled with forlorn hope."

"So take that thick rope into your hand," it urged,
"or those colorful pills in the bathroom drawer
and if you do it correctly and succeed
perhaps you'll be found dead on the carpet floor."

This shadow, while it still talked like an eager villain
no longer made a sound
She found she could quiet its menacing voice
with faint memories of happiness that she found

Of sunlight after a burst of rainfall
the woodsy scent of a winter breeze
morning grass speckled with dew
long streets in the fall adorned with golden leaves

Of family dinners gathered around the table
witty remarks and laughter shared with friends
quiet moments spent with her dearest, her lover
and his warm clasp around her hands

This shadow looked on in disgust
and bid her a sour farewell
as it shrunk itself in her yet again
and her dismal unease quelled.