There was a point when i knew that i was going to die.
And at that moment
i couldn’t help but think
of Hazel
and infinities
and breathing
and death.
I recalled the day
when hazel was sat next to me
and we talked about infinities.
How between one and two
there are many,
and even more
between zero and two.
Now,
i can’t help but think:
breathing is our largest infinity.
Like the numbers
between one and two,
breathing never ends.
But like the person
who eventually stops counting
the numbers
between one and two,
my lungs get tired.
And eventually,
they too,
must
stop.
YOU ARE READING
The Last thoughts of Augustus Waters
PoetryJust a little poem about "The Fault in Our Stars" by John Green. If you haven't already read the book, I highly suggest it.