I used to think death was when the brain stopped working,
when the heart stopped beating.
But the day I kissed and felt nothing—
I knew I had already died.
Death isn't just physical.
It's the numbness.
It’s loving someone or something
that no longer nurtures your soul.
It feels like burning in flames—
and somehow enjoying the intensity.
Not wanting to be saved.
Yes, I’m burning.
And for the first time,
I feel safe—
because everyone is afraid to come too close.
This is where most people die.
But strangely,
I love to live here.
In this insensibility—
a phase where I’m falling apart,
terribly,
but finally feeling secure.
I wish to stay guarded,
forever.