If Death came tonight, knocking at my door, asking for my hand,
I would not hesitate to go with him.
This place, this home, is not meant for everyone.
I will lock my fingers with his, cling tightly to his bones,
follow him anywhere.
This life has worn me down,
"tired" has become a part of who I am.
I refuse to stay here, perpetually sad.
I will go.

- R. H.