Sonnet to Consider Living

We listen to Harmony Hall in the car

& I sing louder with I don’t wanna live like this,

but I don’t wanna die. There are no good words

for suicide. Sun pearls my arm, loose

on the car window. It’s spring & I won’t

romanticize dying, though I do want a way to say

I want to die without making anyone cry.

As I unroll the window I hold my fingers through the running

air & let March mother me, brush my body

tenderly. I didn’t mean to write a love poem

but the love keeps happening, despite

all my attempts to leave. No one notices

when I sing louder; the moment passes anonymously.

It’s okay. I look for language to name me.