I woke the other day
rushed away in silent sirens and muted noise
and you never saw the speed
of each day worse than the last
each moment a devastation
heartbroken, and breaking
because somebody said
a risk
a risk of what is my question
of despair, of loss, of forever
hypotension they said
with the help of some small white pellets
at 75/50 they were ready to say gone
at heart attack they were set to pronounce bereavement
to nobody in general
not you in particular
this was not an accident
not a calamity of personal casualty
This was a deliberate and desirous decision
I woke in that bed
angry, unhappy with the cognizance of awareness
I despise their heroics, their assignment to life
in keeping this useless shell whole
can we stop
in this pretence that every being is worth saving
can we stop
in this veneration of life
with no realization of loss?
I am not worth saving
I am not worth
I am not
I am
stop saving me from inevitable fate

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