Poof?
Or boom?
Slip slowly?
Or hard fall?
Surprise!
Or see it coming
a mile away?
Comfort?
Or solitude?
Premeditated?
Self-inflicted?
Or from someone
that you would kill for?
Yes,
or no?
Flicker, flicker, blow.
Smokey spindles.
Or perhaps a harsh wind
to chill to the bones
of those who watch
you lifeless.
And you lay,
color drained,
on your back.
Funny.
That's how you ended up
here
in the first place.
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