Sara Teasdale, Why I Took My Life

The night pressed in with a velvet hand, I was so tired, you’d understand. All day the world had sung its song, But not for me—I did not belong. The streets were lit, the windows warm, Yet none could shield me from the storm. I wore my smile like Sharon's borrowed dress, While hollow winds moved through my chest. I thought of spring, I thought of rain, Of all I loved that could not remain. There was no anger, only release, A soft surrender, a will toward peace. I let the darkness close me in, It felt like love beneath my skin. Do not weep, for I am free—sigh, The world was never meant for me.