Suicide disaster

Blossom in the dirt that's what I want

Clouds gently drifting overhead but my eyes are closed

I stare out into my eyelids and its a glittering milky way

Endless universe whirs and kisses each corner of my mind

as soft tufts of grass slip like silk through my fingers 

But what if this isn't death

Golden gladiolus hang lifeless and dead

Foreign and cold, 

Time hardens into stone as I pace down unfamiliar streets

barely skimming the brickwork, narrow and neglected

scraps of paint peeling off into my palm

I think I was screaming as anxiety caught my gut

but it is a mute blur, like a silent film sped up

Paralyzed

Spent so long circling a lake of no return 

Now I am dead but so very alone 

How I long to feel warm peach tinged flesh

or human tears, this place warps around me 

disorientating

Like a child abandoned and left to roam

Bitter emptiness