D.
Dying.
Dying on the Inside.
Dying on the outside.
The bags under my eyes that no one sees
The ones that carry my tired soul.
The unseen cuts on my thighs and upper arms.
Death is mysterious.
It calls to some of us and to others it is the scariest thing imaginable.
When will Death take you?
Who knows.
In a minute?
In a decade?
Right now?
All I know is that
Death cant scare me if I already have tossed away my will to live.
