she accepted how she would die

lonely, and that it would be

her own doing that killed her

it would have been just sad

if she wasn't telling me,

a stranger, about it without

any fear or regret in her voice

just calmness that grew out of her intensity

this is my way, she said

(of ending this, she meant)

and i shut down all my urges

to console or contradict

instead i just nodded silently

she smiled slightly, thanked me

left slowly

as i thought about my way and worried about her(s)

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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