Died

I’ve so little hope that I died
Feel me; I am cold and stiller than
Ice over a cold winter’s lake.

I have breathed my last;
Snow fairies dance around my neck
Each one of their kisses new petechiae.

There once was fear here
The smell of death now covers it.
Come see the spectacle.
I have died.

My face is blue, my tongue is black.
My wrists are bloated with purifying gas.
And still, I remain, hidden, sane, safe.

I’ve so little hope that I died.
No longer is the fixable unfixable,
No longer will the world weary of me.

I’ve so little hope that I died.