Wednesday, December 7, 2011

47

death. i never thought i’d come face to face with it. i never thought i’d come to terms with it either. it was always something that was just distant, out of my sight. strength. i had a hell lot of it. i was never weak, no. always protecting mother while walking home late at night with groceries. fending for the brother when he got into quarrels with his friends. i was always the line leader in class. i was always the one comforting, never the one crying. it feels strange, you know? once you find out that people around you are dying. some say they’ve passed away. others say that their hearts stopped beating, but i think death stole them. he took them away. they weren’t strong enough. they couldn’t fight back because they were weak. it’s pitiful to watch them lay there in their coffins. it’s pitiful to know that you’ll have nothing to do but watch your friends and families gawk at you. if death ever took me, if i ever lost to him, i’d want my coffin to be closed. i would never let them see me dead. i would never let them see me weak. never in a million years.
don’t ever let them see me dead, daddy.

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