I’ve been battered and torn to pieces, and abandoned in this dark place. Survive I can no longer in this lonely space. Rage building, and despair begins to mount, I can see nothing, I can find no way out I’ll tell no one, only you. I feel as though there’s nothing more I can do. No! Dylan Thomas Once told me to rage against the dying of the light, Never going gentle into that good night. But I know how it can feel. To feel the same pressure from worries imagined, and worries real. A shadow that invades your lush principality, shrouding it in darkness, making meandering pest-like phantoms into reality. I’ll sit with you in this dark place, Making sure you know it’s not an empty space. Because every suicide is a maiden, deflowered virgin, suicide.