Some nights I lie awake
and dream about what it would
be like to never wake up again.
It sounds like a morbid daydream,
this I know to be true, but it’s not
the idea of romanticizing death,
no, but the mystery and bewilderment
that the concept of death brings me.
And perhaps it is just me, but I think
about death in the strangest way, as it
is all around us, and unfortuntely
it’s an inevitable conclusion we can’t escape.
The thought of life ending, the absence
of rhythmic heart beats, of fluttering eyes,
is almost too much to bear at times,
and at other times, it could sound
like the sweetest solution.
But I think about what awaits me,
the darkness that will consume my mind,
because I believe that this world is so
brilliantly beautiful, there just has to be
more waiting for me on the other side.
I wonder who will remember me, and how
they will retell stories of my existence,
have I made an impact on someone’s life
without ever knowing the pain or love I created?
Will my words surpass my breathing, will these
tattered pages survive my demise to change lives?
And you, I wonder mostly how you will remember
me and the nights we shared together, whispering
our secrets to the humid summer nights
wishing on airplanes we mistaken for stars,
and tangling ourselves in our spider web of sheets.
I sometimes dream of death in the most beautiful ways,
wondering, hoping there will be more beauty on the other side.