Don’t tell me to die

This is me.
Before I go. Before I leave you all.
Floating. Weightless.
I do love you. I really do.
And this for me is happiness.
There are no flowers. No ambling by a river, like Ophelia.
Romanticism is absent. They're drilling outside. A builder hollers.
A whistle follows. Shrill.
I close my eyes to it. And tell the water to swallow me whole.
The urban sounds are drowning.
My breath is held. My chest expands, tightens.
My heart drums on. I latch onto it.
    The brain tells me to breathe. To rise.
I'm no phoenix. The water owns me now.
    It's time, she whispers. It's time.