All I feel is death. How does one feel death? Easily. So easily. It chokes. How does one not feel the sensation of being choked?
I postpone my thoughts until a better-suited time for them to attack me. When I'm alone. And vulnerable. And when it's more likely that they can end it all easily. Suddenly.
I smile and smile and smile. Until my cheeks burn and my eyes water. Until my heart stops and my lips tremble. And I can breathe again. A shallow, shaky breath. My last.
It is so good to be home. So good to be here.