There are many things I think of with death.
primarily sadness, burden and anger
sometimes happiness, relief and thankfulness
right before I die will I think “do I regret my life? Did I live life to the fullest?”
as my heart slows, “did I do everything I want to do with the people I wanted to do it with?”
i often fear I’ll die alone.
sounds empty, scary
alone in a crumpled ball on the side of the road
alone in the waves of a current I can’t escape
alone in a hospital bed strapped to beeping machines and fluorescent screens
death is a lonely process anyways,
you do it by yourself and nobody else knows what to do
hopelessly watching as your vision goes darker,
your limbs numb,
your hearing fades
I hope I’m not a burden
if I cannot hear, see,
or have a feeding and breathing tube…
just finish me
Most of all though,
i hope I am missed
i hope I impacted people
i hope I come up in dinner conversations,
“hey remember when Ethan…”
“hey remember when Dad…”
“hey remember when Grampy…”
when i I think about it,
its not literally death that scares me.
Or the pain or suffering that comes
from the Grim Reaper.
but all the components that come after
and how it affects my loved ones.
curiosity killed the cat
but what happens after?
now that’s something to think about.
It’s hard to think that
everything just ends.
but alternatives seem
even though they are much more tranquil, happy, lavish
I would like to believe them
but sometimes I just can’t.
it’s just hard for someone who
is constantly being to finally go
and then buried 10 feet under
in an overpriced box
with maggots as neighbors
and then left there to rot.
i want to believe there is something more.
all this build up
all these experiences in life
all this wisdom
all these loving connections
just to be shut off and thrown away.
There has to be something more,