I committed suicide,
but not in the ways you think
not with ropes,
or pills,
or blades.

I've been committing it,
slowly, every day,
in the things I don't say,
in the smiles that fade
before they reach my eyes.

I've been killing myself in the quiet ways
in skipped meals,
in broken sleep,
in letting go of the things
I once cared about.

I committed suicide in the silence,
where no one hears.
where no one sees,
just me, alone,
with a heart that stopped
beating for itself.