I do not mind a life or death situation.

At least if I fail, it is predictable.

I might not have the chance to fade before I am ready.

All my undone wants tied up with a neat little bow.

Goodbyes said.

Story finished.

***

I would rather it had a name.

Something I can face head on.

So I can bring my all to bare.

Not taken away in secret in the middle of the night.

Under the cover of loneliness.

Taken before any other soul knows.

***

I hate those random freak accidents.

Removed from the world by the most basic incident.

Choking to death on the chicken bone called chance.

It feels so random and traumatic.

Would it be egotistical to say I want to go out in a better way?

Let me have a proper character arc.

***

I made it so far in life.

Survived so much and defied the odds so many times.

I cannot count on my two hands how many times scissors have neared my life thread.

Pulled back from the brink.

It has to have been done for a reason.

A better one than just to choke on a chicken bone.