I collapse onto the bathroom floor

Surrounded by tear stained tissues

I close my eyes and let fresh tears roll down my cheeks

And dampen my depressed soul

As I open my watering eyes a flicker of silver

Plays at the corner of my eye

The razor sits innocently upon the bench top

Staring at me in mock silence

I rise slowly to my feet and walk the few steps to the bench solemnly

I raise the blade to my wrist with a trembling hand

Then all goes blank…

I wake to see a skeletal hand reaching for mine

I take it in my own

Accepting my dance with death.