It pulls tight. I cannot tell who has done this.
It feels scratchy and still. Strong in weight.
It is the option that no one wants to hear.
A feeling of death and vagrant justice.
When there are no more roads that can be traveled,
When there is no future to the present.
This moment that needs to happen.
Are you ready?
It will hurt. And you know it well.
This is not a trust exercise, but a mortality question.
Who are you to be alive and who are you to be dead?
Toes ache with pain, putting immense strain tiptoeing,
Who in my life- our life – that stands in the way?
From my happiness. My everything. That blockade.
Are you prepared?
I know that it is the right thing. The only thing.
Is this what should happen? No.
But my body craves silence. Craves an end to a whirlwind.
It doesn’t recognize the settled dust for what it is.
It creates new dust, new mess, new things to clean up.
I am tired, I guess.
Just let it come to an end.