She would go into the mountains,
or woods, or some other quiet place,
with no bullet or blade for her ally.
She would find some cold, silent
night, and lie down in the damp
grass, and let that be the way
she would go. Her heart was sore,
a dead weight in her chest, and she
wanted it to be light again.
If she could choose, she would leave
her stupid life, and start again,
by melting into the earth.
She would drift down, down,
down into the soil, and let
the worms and bugs and critters
free her. That – that would be
the way she would go, if
she could choose her ending.