Chasing Butterflies

The reaper

  I played around in gardens after gardens until oneday I couldn't. I watched the black bird peep through the window once again.

I couldn't help but wonder what death would feel like.

What would it feel like to have all my suffering and pain taken away? Would it feel like the soft rain landing on my fingertips this spring?

Would it feel as cold, yet, so calm?

I wanted to know...

I needed to know.

I had to.

Yet, god had other plans for me. I couldn't just die... but, nevertheless, the black bird just watched me from the window, all spring and summer.

It watched me through the change of Autumn and through the numbing cold of winter. It never seemed to get tired of me.

The black bird, was my depression.

I pretended.

I pretended to not see the black bird.

I pretended I wasn't aware of of it's watchful eyes.

I smiled.

I laughed.

I danced to my hearts content.

Yet, the black bird still stood by my window, watching me.

It never got tired, but, I did...