A desired, undesired end

I have a rope tied around my throat.
My eyes burn and turn crystalline.
My veins, red, green, blue,
are about to dance.

I think of all artists who speak of their work of art,
and the brushes behind it.
But I’ll never get to show my work of art.
I’ll simply give my last breath to regret,
regret for the person I was.
Each time I sink into melancholic thoughts,
each time the thread of fate pulls me into the abyss,
into the deep sea,
with tides crashing against me as I drown,
my hand silently reaches out...
but I only sink.
And I will drown,
drown without ever being a valued, loved, important, or useful person.
I say goodbye to the only ones who ever welcomed me with warmth,
even though I don’t deserve it.
God, just take me.
The wounds on my body and under my nails burn.
Please let everything heal from me.
And may tears of fury have served some purpose.
Now, yes, this note is a great work of art,
But one with a bitter, sorrowful ending.
Goodbye.

As I touch the bottom of the sea.

— Daniela Chourio Soto