What if Death is just Life’s quiet twin,
a breath held deep between the skin?
Not an end, but a veil—thin, unspun—
where shadows dance with the unborn sun?
Life hums bright with a fleeting tune,
a spark, a flash—gone too soon.
Yet Death, they say, is the endless deep,
where time unwinds and secrets sleep.
But what if both are just one thread,
woven tight—the seen, unsaid?
A riddle spun in flesh and dust,
a dance of atoms, love, and rust?
Do we end when the heart stills,
or do we ripple in unseen hills?
Does the moth fear the flame’s embrace,
or does it vanish—or find its place?
Tell me, wanderer, what do you see
when you stand on the edge of the mystery?
Is it a door, or just a bend,
where Life and Death both meet… and blend?
(Leave them wondering. Leave them unknown.)
A Part of this is Generated with the help of AI
About the Creator
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
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