Love, Death

25. computer

with all the knowledge of the world

at my fingertips

i begin to learn

and learn

and learn

i find cures

for illnesses

pollution

heat

and sorrows

but never for the lonely

i contribute great pieces of art

literature

and sculptures

all under different names

aliases

to the world

some people theorize

that i am one and the same

others say

it is ridiculous

how could i be me, when this was created

three hundred years ago?

every century

i fake my death

and change

my name

like a ritual

it is harder now

to hide and flee at dusk

back then

all i had to do

was run

at first

i felt guilt

but soon

i get used to it

it seems

so

distant

so ironically cruel

to pick out a coffin for yourself

when you have become

death herself

i suppose

it could be worse

it is a small lie

a minimal price to pay

they lower me into the ground

i suffocate

but i know, it is okay

there is never any true danger

i will pass out

and i will wake up some place else

that is how it always is

in this process of rebirth