Housewife

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.