When death happens,
your tombstone will caption
your life.
And none of us survive.
When we die,
rarely do we say goodbye.
Loved ones left behind,
left to find a meaning for dreaming.
Because if we were put here to die,
life is a lie,
a bluff.
It says when you've had enough.
In the end, you have no say.
But still, still we pray.
We have to hold on to something
or we will stop living and do nothing.
Living through life, in a nutshell,
is like a slow motion curve ball
thrown straight at your head.
The end result? You're dead.
YOU ARE READING
The Things We Don't Talk About
Poetry***Trigger Warning: Mental health, mental illness, eating disorders, suicidal ideation, self-harm*** A collection of poems delving into the dark side of the human experience. From high highs to low lows, emotion can be intense. And this collection s...
