to live, to die

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life is one place of a hell-
that day he said to me
he said everything's beautiful when looking from a distance
i looked at him with wonder
his eyes were sharp

we were just two teenagers bound in hospital beds
i was there with him in a balcony full of regrets
i didn't want to agree with him
i said whatever i said
i had nothing to lose
but everything to gain

from a distance every story ends happily
from a close look everything's a tragedy
his laugh caught a melody
i did look at him
once or twice
that afternoon we probably had a long discussion
about death and life

he even told me his nickname
he whispered something which will never be said
a stranger so recognizable
that day i barely held my breath
he said everyone's dying in a way
he said we are using the rest of our oxygen everyday
not knowing when it's going to end
he said he has no regrets
some people die first and some are just late
well, it's the same ending at the end of the day

i wondered how much more i'd know from him
if he ever lived more than once
because he knows something no one does
even past a happy ever after
the prince dies before her
doesn't she grieve after losing him?
does that make a sad ending?
i asked him, now he looked at me
his eyes are like clouds flying in a dream
if i were rain drops pouring heavily!

he said nothing but if his eyes talked
it would scream a thousand word
one month and i'd never hear this voice again
god, could it not last longer than a second?
it's insane some people even know when it's going to end
they really don't

two strangers are caught
bounded by the same brutal fate
it's not brutal, he claimed
it's just we are living differently than others
we never get to describe the pain
we don't even get to feel other people's experience
how can you compare them?
don't be sorry for yourself
don't say something like that again

my heart never worked so fine
that day it beat so many times
his pool of words did more than the treatment of my whole life
maybe to live is to die
the goodbye of the sun gave me hope at night
again will it rise
flowers bloomed in my stomach
maybe one day the earth will remember us

eleven eleven. poetryWhere stories live. Discover now