Out With a Hiss

I understand that I need to calm down

But there isn't enough chamomile tea in the world to slow these thoughts

No amount of quiet time for reflection to calm this trembling

Fresh air can't make these bleeding wounds heal faster.

When cats near death it's said they can sense it

With all their remaining strength they drag themselves as far as their aching paws will go

And find a quiet place

Alone

To die.

I'm still deciding where I will go

Under a large fir tree or a flowering bush

All I know is it will have to be far

I'll make sure to be quiet, no squeals or whimpers

Wouldn't want a passerby to notice me

I'll curl up, tail over my nose

And die quiet, alone

Just as the kitty cats

Leaving behind my bones

In a beautiful little place.