What does the world expect?

Sometimes, 
when I am crashing,
my brain sinks towards darkness

its non-functioning state,
where simple thoughts 
become a struggle;

when I can't stand this existence 
so thoroughly, so completely,
my body aches to not exist;

I ask, what does the world
honestly expect from me?

 

I have lost the only thing 
I ever wanted in this life; 
a love that I found with K,
the only emotional home
I have ever known.

I am forty-six,
still struggling to find my way 
out of a depression 
two plus years old,

I committed suicide.
Thoroughly and completely
chose not to live.
Yet here I struggle, alone.

Through depression's wear
I am losing my mind, 
all of my belongings,
all of my money.

I have lost
most friends and family,
or found 
no-one was actually there.

I am completely alone
in a foreign country
where I know no-one.

As I look forward, I see, 
as I saw before the suicide. 
I will be completely alone.

I will likely 
never find the love 
I found with K again.

I see a future
I do not want;
a life, I do not want.

 

& see no care from this world;
only expectation that I live,
find a way,
to keep myself alive.

For what exactly?
Your conscience perhaps?
So you can feel 
you did the right thing?

And what of this ache I feel?
Do I not have say in
whether my life is worth living?

 

These days,
I struggle to get out of bed,
to cook meals, to go to the market,
to practice any form of yoga.

A shell of the human I was.
Don't eat sometimes,
not for days.

On these days in particular,
I have to ask,
what does the world 
honestly expect from me?