I didn't change. I just... died. It wasn't instantaneous. it wasn't clean. It wasn't like dropping down once and for all and crossing over to the other side. It happened in bits, losing tiny fragments of myself, my soul... I was alive throughout the process, clinging onto life so hard with my bare teeth while my gums bled. I didn't even realize until it was too late. Until I was knee deep in and being sucked under, but still... still, I fought, I tried reaching out for the one more time just in came, for help, for a reason, for just... something, anything, but I was left with a fistful of sand, and that too was a pathetic figment of my fragile mind. My death didn't come sudden like a long-lost friend. It crept in like warmth on a cold day, creeping into my flesh, lulling me to sleep like the lips of a first love. My death came staring at me as it lingered at the door, watching me slowly choke while blowing me kisses not from afar but also not close enough. My death claimed me.... wearing your face.
