Eternal Sleep
Just how close is the closest you've
been to oblivion? Do you wonder about all
the times death has brushed past you, grazing your
arm while on the search of another bead for its
garland? Do you drill the rosy image of death in
your skull, or are you beyond that phase?
Are you trying to push it through the cracks,
or have you pushed it through the cracks?
Have you found hypocrisy twisting the tails of
your sentences before you can finish them-
"I'd rather die"- while you walk without a scratch?
I think death is curious. Don't you want to dive when
the pain starts stinging your eyes to the point you
can't even cry, but when the tips of swords prick
your back, what would you trade not to have to
jump?
Because we do not spend all our time looking out a
window and asking, "how little am I?"
We think about the constant screaming and
gnawing in our bellies, just enough food to quiet it
down, but never so much that it extinguishes the
embers that give us meaning-perhaps.