She quickly realized that death was her only consistent friend in life.
People came into her life and people disappeared from her life.
Death, however, was always there.
She did not see Death every day.
Death could sometimes be gone for weeks
When Death was gone, she would sometimes she a bright white light
A white bright tunnel light
She often thought if she should follow the bright white, for she thought it must be filled with angels
For surely only angels could conjure such a bright light
When she was about to follow the bright white light, Death reappeared
No matter how disappointed she was in not being able to follow the bright white light, she welcomed Death
Death was a trusted friend of hers
Because how could she trust people in her life when she did not know how long they would be there?
Death taught her to see beauty where no one else saw beauty
She learned to look up at the darkest night sky and appreciate the indefinite blackness she saw
For Death taught her not to be afraid of the dark, for those who are not afraid of the dark will fare well in the afterlife
YOU ARE READING
The story of me
PoesíaThey might not make sense, but they are all parts of what is the story of me.
