(Note: I’m sorry if this isn’t great, I am not a poet by heart<3 this is just something I wrote a long time ago when I was in a dark place mentally)

How are you doing today? What is bothering you?

The flesh of my fingers

gouge the couch cushions,

although they never

leave a mark.

What do you think your purpose in life is?

My footsteps

no longer make sound,

silent steps over

crunchy leaves.

How often do you have suicidal thoughts?

My voice is still heard

by no one but me,

but sometimes I dream

someone can hear me speak.

Do you have someone you can confide in?

Others pass through me

much like how I passed through

the realms of Life and

Death.

How often do you think about death?

The Grim Reaper

whispered a question into my ear

when I first walked the path

of timeless infinity.

. . .

What is the one thing you wish

you could have changed

with your time on the desolate

Earth?

. . .

The burning wind

whipped my hair into a frenzy;

perhaps this is just a terrible, terrible

dream.

Are you still listening?

With my cooling hands, I trace the path

of my ribs, my heartbeat

vibrating in my ears

despite my own mortality.

Do you need a moment?

I stretched my arms wide,

tears dripping down my

empty, lifeless face.

I wanted to change the world,

I answered.

Around us, the world burned.

Hello?

Are you still with me?

Wake up.