Poison

My unspoken love is left to sit like a poison setting. I am hanging by a thread. The intensity of what is yet to come is so powerful, yet I have the strength to repress it. Pain, heart-break, hopelessness. These are the only certain things the future would bring, and I am afraid. The poison is so silently crawling under my skin, cutting off my senses. The last thing I felt was a stale taste on my tongue. To die taking the risk would be impossible for a coward like me. I would die unaccounted for. I would die numb and alone. I would die slowly and painfully, until every bit of my nerve ending is smothered with poison. but in this death I see the beauty of your face. It hurts, but I want it. Only the pain is telling me that I am still here. Only disappointment has been my companion. Then again, there is nothing left to do but wait for darkness.

Death

Death is more concrete than I used to think. Death is closer than I expected. While I was busy smiling and dreaming, death swiftly and silently crept beside me. Death caught me off guard. When I was not looking, when I was busy living and loving, it went straight through my heart. Slowly, there came the bitter aftertaste of every sweet moment. Slowly, time is telling me to be ready. Slowly, the one that is holding my heart together started to break away. Slowly, my heart is breaking into tiny shards once more. Slowly, I am dying. Dying, though, does not hurt one bit. I already knew what to expect of death. What hurts is that now, I already knew how it felt to be alive, to feel electricity even through the slightest touch against my skin, to see beyond what is visible, to feel beyond the capabilities of my weak heart, and yet they will all be taken away in a snap. It hurts to see all my dreams crumble into dust. I was foolish to suppress the fact that dreams are meant for sleeping. It was difficult when I was so alive, when everything felt so real. I just cannot believe that despite my efforts to stay alive, I still lost, I am still dying. But I have been there before. I have lived like that. I have to admit that being a living dead was far less complicated. Less was indeed more. As I drag my dying body to continue on with the coming of my zombie life, I would forever carry the 'what ifs' that death prevented from happening, but I do not regret anything at all.