Suicide Number Four


United States
41° 50' 47.1012" N, 87° 40' 4.7172" W

That light hasn't come on for weeks now,
and I got a sense of peace when I was dying:
the bells peter out, the sirens stop crying.
I am left with the cold wind sifting my bones.

There is a point where all space compresses to one;
I chase that quiet with nicotine, the little kill.
Nothing compares to the dreamsleep. Perfect soft.
To wake up and find it was a nightmare. I mourn it.


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