I know what it's like to feel as though you've lived the last day of your life.
As if everything you're feeling now will be the last time you feel it.
I've walked through the door from which you can't return.
Through to an everlasting fog that cements your eyes. Clouds your senses.
I've felt my pulse quicken as my heart pushes open my skin for what was meant to be the last time.
I've felt death's hands holding my head under water. Trying to fill my lungs with salt and ice. Trying to kill the evil inside of me.
She's lead me through endless forests, and left me lost between the trees. I've scratched the bark with broken fingernails.
I've felt what it's like to hold my mother for the last time.
And I've died in her arms and become a ghost of myself.
A soulless shell, for my real soul is too black and cold for my body to home.
I know what it's like, to pick up a pen and write the last words I'd ever write.
Think the last thought.
Breathe the last breath.
And then snap myself in two and divide my heart forever.
It's a euphoric feeling, to have your mind become nothing, after it has spent so long trying to be everything.
An ocean gently laps at your ankles, after tidal waves have been ripping apart your head.
You float above yourself.
You can see every crack, and burn.
Every split and splinter.
Every smile you've faked.
Every tear you've cried
Every second you've spent staring outside your window at night wondering if anyone might be staring back.
Wondering if anyone could truely understand what it's like to be you.
You can feel every single thing you've ever been and everything
you could become.
You become a character of Shakespeare.
To live becomes a tormented soliloquy. A poem written hundreds of years ago.
A distant pain that you can't identify.
It is in this moment that you are given a choice.
Whether to give into death, or to cut her spiralling tendrils from your skin.
Close your eyes to her hypnotising gaze.
You must conclude.
Decide whether you will choose "to be, or not to be."
I know what it's like to feel as though you've lived the last day of your life.
But I've also felt the strangeness of living another day after death.
As though I have cheated my expiration.
My heart beats on although my mind may have found its grave.
And in that death I can be reborn.
And I can choose to continue living.
