The way I love death
Like it's an unapproachable crush
I want to die
But I don’t plan to
I don’t see it coming
Therefore I am not getting ready for it
It’s weird because death is always near
That’s what they say
And I am not avoiding it
But if it comes, I am not sure I would open my arms and welcome it
Though there are times I long for it
For me death is a wish
Something I really love
An idea I am really addicted to
A person I see all the time
Occupying my mind
My food reminds me of death
The stairs remind me of death
The window remind me of death
My bed reminds me of death
However, death is Something I don’t think of as a possibility
Naturally, anything you are really desperate for is something you won’t get
Maybe by the time it comes
I had given up on the addiction
Maybe by that time,
I will hate it, run away from it.
Maybe by that time, I will realise my love for a new crush, life.
About the Creator
TheSeaTurtle
A beginner writer not wanting to waste her "passive" thoughts and ideas.
A better way to get a glimpse of who I am is to read my snips of thoughts.
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More stories from TheSeaTurtle and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Thrown into the Empty
He closed the door behind him. This was the last time she saw him. All he had to do now is wait. he already made a decision. All he had to do is not think about it again. He was on the way to death. It was a long way, but someone was dropping him there. "Just don't think about it again", he thought to himself. Sleep seemed like a good idea for a second. But before he closed his eyes, he quickly decided against it. He usually liked sleeping in the car. Especially on a cold rainy night like tonight. When he first met her, when they were kids, this time was the time he would enjoy her company in his mind. He would rest his head on the cold car window, the cold touching his cheek. He would let his mind take him back to the sweet moments he had with her since the last time he saw her. Those moments kept replaying, causing an unbreakable smile in his face. Until he saw her again, they were sufficient. Then he would daydream of moments that never happened, moments he hoped to turn into reality the next time he saw her. It made him eager to.
By TheSeaTurtleabout a year ago in Fiction
The Blue Ridge Stalker
Tom had left the Ford down the way, its spark plugs finally exhausted and no mechanics for a dozen miles back through the foothills to Strossburg. No matter, he had worn his boots—almost as if he planned for this to happen. The puzzle he sought to solve emanated from the woods clinging to the slopes above; the valley behind held no mysteries.
By Stephen A. Roddewig3 days ago in Fiction
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