A figure walked into my room late one night. It was Death. Without any words, I knew it was my time. Tears rolled down my face, but I didn't make a sound. I didn't want the people outside to see what was about to happen. Death came to my bedside, laid down its scythe, and pulled down its hood. To my surprise, Death looked like an old friend and a smile spread across my face. We stayed there for a minute or two without words lingering in the air. I knew this time wasn't given to me to prepare or come to terms with what came next, but so I could enjoy my last moments and be at peace with myself. Death pulled up its hood, grabbed its scythe with one hand, and extended the other to me. In that moment, I grew scared of what would happen to the people I left behind, but one look at Death and I was calm once more. I looked around the room at the white walls and grabbed the hand of Death. As we left, I heard a voice I no longer recognize speaking words I no longer understood. What is a code blue?

Death is tragedy, just like most things that happens in the course of one's life, for a moment it may seem that the world is at end, the next minute something pops and your joy is restored, but that's not all tomorrow is unknown still. Death might seem so much of devastation but the uncertainty of tomorrow is the greatest tragedy of all. So I've learnt to appreciate today even if it makes me cry, it's only today, tomorrow i might cry again but it's okay it never last, death is so much beautiful so much so that it may end it all and a new light revealed

Where is the sky,
when you're scared to raise your eyes?
What lurks above,
in the absent space,
when irrationality tells you tales of aliens?
I shudder at my thoughts,
live in constant worry over the higher place,
avert skyward attention through my fear of the unknown.
I count the days till I drop and float up there,
till I have to face that which waits.

Oh you creatures /
You gods and dead /
You satellite haunts /
How long till I am one of you?
How long till I become another dying star in the dark,
misinterpreted by those who believe something better awaits?
How long till I orbit a planet I will never miss?

When the dead look up
We are their constellations
Until we burn out

On days like these it seems like writing keeps the punishing thoughts away
All of the dark and depressing fears are kept at bay
So long as though my fingertips they go on display

Yes, I am terrified of death
Because I know it is inevitable
There is no life after death
When I think about it I feel a sharp pang of nothing
There is no envisionment of an afterlife
Of a paradise
Because there is none, not for me

Even if I believe in reincarnation
It doesn't stop the fear
Because all of my memories in this life
Will disappear
And if I stop writing now
These thoughts will invade and my conscience will cave

My passions are overwhelmed by my fears
Luckily they are just scattered days on my calendar
If I can make it through this one
I will make it through the next

Close your eyes.
Let your body relax.
Let every tissue, muscle and fiber dilate into the clouds.
Collapse into dust, into the other world, break out from this planet.
Reach out.
Way out there in the middle of nowhere, where nothing even exists, where you will soak in a cosmic bath of star waves.
Where you can drift on cosmic waves of energy then slowly dilate into a more vivid world.

We dream, don't we?
Of a place that we can belong?

A place of love, peace and grace.
A place of white clouds upon blue sky,
Lush fields,
And endless sunshine.

If Heaven is a place of purity and love,
why must we die to live a dream?

Don't go in there
Said he
Not yet

And so the man waited
By the door
Where the voice was

Why did you not believe in me?
Asked the voice, as a formality
And the man looked at his own *****, sinful hands

How could I believe?
Said the man
And the voice looked up from the newspaper

You took Max away
You took both of them away
And you took me away,
Now
Would you believe?
If I took your son?

But you already did
Said he, as a reminder
And the angels chuckled in a choir

And now
Spoke the man
You ask me to believe, when I still cannot see you?

And the voice wanted to show itself
But there was no faith
There remained only a tired and restless soul
That didn’t want answers
It never required answers
It only wanted
Max

I don’t believe in God
I don’t believe there’s a life after this one
I don’t believe there’s a white tunnel that leads our souls from our bodies to Heaven

And yet
in my darkest moments
when I feel the most alone
I reach out
and
I pray

To whom?
I’m not sure
maybe my Nana
or my best friend
or maybe even God

A part of me just hopes you can hear me
A part of me thinks that you can’t
A part of me can’t fathom you being gone
A part of me knows that you are

But I don’t believe in an afterlife
at least not for me

And isn’t that ****** up?
That I hope you’re in Heaven
when I don’t believe it exists

Or maybe
I just don’t think
I deserve to go there.