I lived a life as if I were deceased:
isolated, secluded, buried six feet
inside the coffin of my own conscious self.
Plus, for years, many saw me stalked Death,
So when they saw maggots eating my flesh,
And those vultures swirling above my head,
They left
then came back
just to give a proper burial to my remains,
Though my eeriness of departure
did not allow me to kill myself nor did
my urgent appeal to Death -
"to take me with her," was ever heard,
So when they came back and felt my breath,
they killed themselves.
And I, too, out of remorse, killed myself.
Written as a Challenge from Poet on the Piano but hosted by Saffie.
