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 May 2016 Arreonna Frost
Xnihilo
I raise the sun in the morning,
and the moon in the night.
I sing the stars into being,
and chase the darkness out of sight.

I blow the wind that moves the worlds,
and forge the rains that falls ahead.
I do this all, alone and scared
that you won't know me until I'm dead.
the only way out
is within

©2016janetaylor
Death has no prejudices. No favorites.
It doesn’t care if you’re young or old, rich or poor.
Death is inevitable, whether or not you’re ready for it.

But once you're dead, what's it like?

It’s like you’re never really in one place, rather everywhere all at once. Like your conscience has been sprinkled throughout the world like grains of sand and your breath is part of the wind.
Your voice is now the rustling of the trees and your blood is rushing water in the rivers. You’re no longer confined to a vessel and you feel like you’ve never actually felt completely free until now.
Your energy that was manifested in your body is now recycled back into Earth. There’s an immense sense of belonging and contentment, like you’re comfortably numb.

There is no sense of time.
The years, days, hours, minutes, seconds; mean nothing.

When you’re young, you feel indestructible. You feel immortal.
There’s always a tomorrow because the sun is promised to rise the next day. It’s hard to imagine a day that you won’t exist anymore.
It’s easy to take things for granted. Sometimes it’s hard for people to realize how fragile human beings really are.
It doesn’t take much for our soul to be ripped from our bodies.
Not much at all.
These are some excerpts from a paper that I had to write for my Death&Dying; college course this semester. We had to write about how our own death. After reading my paper, my professor wrote something very special to me on the last page. She told me that it was the best paper she had read and she absolutely hoped that I was pursuing a career in writing. As an aspiring writer, this meant SO much to me.
 May 2016 Arreonna Frost
niamh
For tears that fall
On hollow cheeks
When the weeks feel like years
And the years feel like weeks.

And you sit by a grave
Where the roses grow
But the rose that you seek
Is buried below.

You have my heart
Heavy with sorrow
For the velvet rose
With no tomorrow.
Absolutely over the moon (if a little shocked) to see that this piece made the daily.  Thank you all so much for your comments - I promise to reply to you all individually at some point soon.  It was an extremely emotional, difficult, but ultimately cathartic write. Dedicated to our wee Shane, who we will never forget ***
 May 2016 Arreonna Frost
This Guy
I want you
to be the one who would treat me right
X
#x
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