Certain states allow assisted suicide. But only for medical reasons…
What about a life of nothing but sadness?
One where I hid behind different masks,
to not be persecuted.
I made you laugh.
I made you cry.
I made you not depressed
by seeing mine.
But I could never make myself matter.
Who is more terminal?
Who suffers more?
Is it not an act of kindness to end any suffering?
Especially when so many counselors shrugged their shoulders
after crying about my tales of life
with nothing left to suggest.
Is not the therapist that says there is nothing left to do
the same as the doctor who has no words but just a shrug of his shoulders.
This act with the aid of a physician
would be for the survivors
who never saw anything
but the clown, or sad man, or the imposter.
We both might find comfort that I did not die alone.