Do not call my father the dying man,
for his weakness' are not his failure but virtue and a testament of his character.

Do not call my father the dying man,
for while his breathing is labored, every breath is taken with valor and inner strength

Do not call my father the dying man,
for while his eyes are glazed, his heart remains true, his mind unbroken

Do not call my father the dying man,
for while his fingers tremble, and his body is frail; his spirit speaks volumes

Do not call my father the dying man,
for while he is sick, he is no burden, no shameful person

Do not call our father the dead man,
for he always lives within our thoughts,
The memories, the dreams, and the questions that will never be answered.

I want to feel your hands around my neck
A soft and warm pressure. Not squeezing, just existing.
I want to feel the comfort of your embrace,
The love in your touch, your feel.
I want your hands around mine.

And then you woke up, you felt the soft drip of sweat on your furrowed brow. Trailing down your face in thin streams. Your clothes were soaked, and your bed lay damp. Your breathing was heavy as your forlorn gaze drifted off into the night sky.

And then you woke up, you felt the fright from a previous dream cling to your mind, dulling your senses. Cloaking your ears from all previous sounds that might’ve existed. Your hands lay there trembling, uncontrollable in every way, messy hair in all directions.

And as you lay there breathing, you woke up. The erratic thumping of your heart, beating loud into the night. A soft wail from your mouth, encircling the terrible symphony of despair. Grating thoughts, that never seem to go away. It won’t stop, it won't go away . . .

And then you woke up

Nothing’s changed, I’ve just discovered a new part of me.
I don’t suddenly become a different person overnight,
My brain, my body, my personality.
It’s all the same.
But there’s just a difference in the way I perceive myself.
Nothing’s changed.

For now-
Go to sleep
And wake up a better person.

So why don't the polar bears melt with the stars in the sea, and the fish in the clouds?
      With the wind blowing the ice away, it makes no noise.
    If we are surrounded by water why have we used all our water up?
    And even still we sit on damp land where hamsters live as solicitors and sharks as arbitrators who consume fresh oysters with no eyes who recognizes the world more clearly than I, and we'll all go to Mars one day... just not today