(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.