If death comes for me,
Tell him I have been waiting.
And if he asks what I wanted,
Tell him I wanted less.
Less noise in my head,
Less pretending that pain was meaningful,
Less pressure to justify my continued
Presence in a world that
Never asked for it.
It hurts to stay alive out of kindness, not desire, carrying days forward simply because your absence would echo too loudly in the lives you protect, even while your own heart begs gently for rest.