Death.
Death is an interesting thing. Creeping up on you in the night, in your saddest times, when you least expect it. Taking anyone- babies, children, the young, the old, mothers, fathers. It is merciless. Uncaring about your situation, whatever situation that may be. But it is also kind. Death being the sweet release one may need. Appearing just at the right time, ready to catch you when you let go. The one thing you can rely on to always be there for you, even when others, the ones that were supposed to be there, aren't. Most are scared of death. But not me.
Because death can't catch me. Not yet, anyway.
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The Becoming of Ocean Wilde
RomanceLIE /lʌɪ/Submit noun plural noun: lies 1. an intentionally false statement. One would think that something as serious as a terminal sickness would be blaringly obvious in your everyday life. You would think that it would demand attention then tire y...
