How will you begin?

I hid in the broom cupboard

inhaling embarrasment, exhaling self–pity

mourn my loss of consciousness

look at me think about me

one    last    time.

you might as well be dead

your soul allows the vapors to swirl from white to a liberated indigo

change while you still can

Big sister said she hoped to die young, never wanted to be a stupid old person

what was it you wanted?

she insisted that sleeping feels better than waking up.

take a deep breath of stale dusty cupboard air and step out.