One day, my head will hang loose.
in a shredded, old noose. The apartment will be empty;
sick whimpers in the cold.
A chair sits – with a sagging face,
      waiting to be toppled from
under me.
      
Right time – right motivation –
right moment.
My skin will be hot, and my veins will be blue;
I’ll close moist eyes, lips thin, hoping for painless death
to come true.
        I think, I’ll feel renewed.
             Only to find my legs kicking
         from under me – like I’m drowning in an ocean
           of unoxygenated ecstasy.

Laughing at the pathetic attempts of my body fighting pure
    misery.
“Not strong enough,” they’d whisper; I’ll prove them wrong
and grab peace by the neck
        like the noose
        did to me.

She’ll come home at 10 to find the lights on;
hit the door and scream of forgotten vengeance
only to find a nobody had died
and cry and cry and cry
till her eyes are dry.