Waiting for, walking to… my death.

Feeling really down, especially after so many things have happened. A time I had looked forward to, waited for, but then I was hit, and hit, by every oncoming care imaginable.

 


The long wait,
Like a hospital waiting line,
Waiting for the drop?, the crunch, the slice of the guillotine upon your own,
Outstretched,
Vulnerable,
Bare,
Neck.

Waiting for…
The cut of life… Or death.
What is the difference?
What is me?
Why am I still alive?

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