03/08/2026
And when death finally reaches for me,
there will be nothing left to claim—
only the hollow shell
of someone who once rehearsed
the motions of being alive.
My soul will have withered long before that hour,
slowly devoured
by the quiet teeth of despair.
My heart will not tremble
when the darkness arrives,
for it has carried exhaustion for so many years
that even death
may look upon it with mercy.
And in that final moment
there will be no cry,
no desperate struggle—
only the bitter realization
that long before my body fell still,
before the world called it an ending,
I had already died
while life still demanded
that I keep breathing.
