When did I finally understand death?
I remember being eight years old,
My grandpa had died,
And I didn't understand what was going on.
Now when I hear about death I feel so cold.
When did I finally understand what death meant?
Is there a certain age when we learn about the other side?
I never thought deeply about people dying,
Ceasing to exist,
Not until I wanted to cease my existence.
Funny right?
If I said it wasn't ironic I would be lying,
But death didn't make sense to me,
Until I was the one that wanted to be dying.
So I think back to when I finally understood what death was.
The first time I realized that I would never see a person again.
I don't even know how to begin.
I never thought about death as if it didn't affect me,
But you see, it hit me rather quickly.
Eighth grade.
My best friends brother died.
I couldn't seem to do anything,
I just cried.
The first boy I ever kissed,
All the things I think about that he missed.
I never thought about death,
Until it affected me.
Why did I think death seemed better,
If I couldn't live with the people I missed?
Four people in my high school years,
Gone.
In such a short amount of time, yet felt so long?
Every person I lost made it harder to understand.
Understand how living couldn't be wrong.
I still can't understand death.
Why it takes and takes and leaves everyone else behind.
What's the point to life,
If you can't be with the ones that haunt your mind?
YOU ARE READING
For The Rainy Days
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I have made through the past few years. Most of them are sad, and are personal. I would love any feedback you'd like to give. I'm trying to stick to writing, but I might not always update. I hope you enjoy my poems!
