I’m not afraid of death.
Nothing ever stays the same.
And when I get the slightest form of a feeling of being at home somewhere I lose it again.

I did receive my soulfamily but never a lover.
I couldn’t have one either cause I’m never at home anywhere.
Always moving away, never at ease, being too wilde and yet too tired.

So, no I’m not afraid of death and I’ve seen my path making sense.
It wasn’t in vain even though it’s always been so rough, nearly impossible.
But there’s a space for everything at every time.

What I am afraid of is dying, the process, doing it alone especially.
Not knowing where the journey ends.
But when the journey here will end I’m sure I’d be content.

But how it will is what scares me.
Letting go of my body and everything I know.
Although I was never at home somehow I can’t let it go on my own.
And I’m not sure when I can.