After reading this for few times, the title hits hard. Yes just that word descending, I dont know if you meant it to have a big meaning, but for me it's really dark. I cant describe what's in my brain.
Also I LOVE the repetition of this part "hands sanitised to the bone", it's like it left me bruised and my bones are aching.
Woah. Death is scary. To expect it and keep thinking about it (tiptoe on broken glass that isn't there) is even more scary. Dusk bleeding through your walls is a very creative image. I have a couple of moments to read and comment on poems. I will leave a better comment later. But wow, I am so in love with this.