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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #2329017
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.


To Dust

excruciating pain that fills my lungs, that some call air

it's the thing that can both save and kill me

if I breath in the fumes that encompass me,

the fumes that are carried into this car by wedging a pipe into the exhaust and in through the car window,

would that be an easy way out?

When I'm gone don't pray, don't mourn my loss,

because it's not my loss, it's my gain

the quicker I am to dust, the quicker I am at peace.


Am I cheating if I skip to the end?

Will I be remembered for my life, not my death?

I start the clock and roll up the window,

the carbon monoxide that surrounds me begins to thicken,

my breathing begins to slow

my life doesn't flash before me, but my decision does

this is a mistake

as my body becomes weak, I accept my fate

body still, smoke suffocating my lungs

I am nothing, I am to dust


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