!!!CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DEATH/DYING AND SUICIDAL IDEATION!!!

When I Die

When I die, I hope it’s quiet; I’ve never cared for the commotion.
I hope my heart slowly stops beating; my lungs take their time to deflate.
That I get to feel the sun dance across my skin, one final time.

When I die, I hope my mind feels tranquil; no expectations weighing.
In its simplest form, I want to go alone; no one to preform for.
When I have no one to impress, or to disprove as I wilt into the terra.

When I die, I hope I’m not afraid; I wish to fall willingly into the dark.
Sinking further and further, my mind is floating in my body’s absence.
No more aches, no more pain, no more questions of what is wrong.

When I die, I hope it’s my choice, not because I want to die, but to choose.
But perhaps I do want to, just a little, just for a moment, of every day.
Every night, every week, every moment, I think about dying.

When I die, I hope I’m no longer afraid of not having the choice.
To be free of the fear of it all ending in an instant, out of my control.
I hope that when I die, and I will, I rot on my own terms, not the worlds.

I will die. And it scares me.

Note: I am not a threat to myself. This not a goodbye letter. This is just how productively manage dark thoughts. All safe in the headspace.

Open to criticism, though keep in mind, this is a draft and may contain grammar errors 😅