Hangman’s Tree

Fingers positioned readily on the keyboard, pondering: ‘What story could I possibly recount that would validate my decision to end my life?’ Dispassionate and solemn, I dismissed the momentary notion to expatiate philosophically or quixotically –– I’ve had enough of cerebral & idealistic quests… ‘Has the nexus of your identity transmogrified into a psychogenic tabula rasa?’ Nonsense… Re: personal past and present-day, I have nothing to offer but silence; I simply want to die.