Death and its Preoccupation

I am tired.
I am destroyed.
From the pain of losing the one.
From the constant effort of filling this void.

Yeah, love is known to hurt.
A sharp pain stabbed in the gut.
But loss?
No no no.
Loss is the eternal scraping of the stab wound with a bitter rake.
It is a tormented animal left on the road for no one’s sake.

The world urges me to move on.
“Free the bird inside you; rattle the cage”
Ah! How do I explain?
Do I want to move on from the pain?
It is a sinking boat of weighted memories
that I am trying to salvage.

So, while tired is temporary.
Destroyed feels real.
And since death tends to be final.
I invite Hades to seal my deal.

I have made up my mind.
The turn is now mine.
To torment and no longer be tormented.
Compared to this vacant life
I would rather I be found dead.