I simply don’t understand how you can gently hold my hand only to squeeze hard when the public […]
I write this as I cry because death does not scare me,
Though as the feeling of numbness takes over my body again I can’t help but panic,
Not because I don’t want to leave loved ones behind,
Not because I’m scared of who stands behind the black glass doors of temptation,
No its far worse then that,
It has nothing to do with the tears that will be shed at my funeral,
Or the pleas of my nieces and nephews when they knock on my bedroom door and I don’t respond,
No it’s none of that.
It’s quite simple.