When we stop breathing,
Everything happens.

Our first memory
and how cloudy and irrelevant it was
our first scary movie
the terrors that movie brought upon us
and the nightmares that came with those terrors
the day we graduated
and how proud everyone looked
how we regret ever wanting to grow up
the first time we listened to Piano Man
and the first time that song ever meant something to us
those restless nights on Christmas Eve
while we sat waiting for old saint nick
to come down the Chimney.
our first love
and those days we sat
looking at each other for hours on end,
just thinking about how amazing life is
and how amazing she is or he is
or they are, or we are.

The first time we had ***
and how awkward and uncomfortable is was
the seats in my car didn't help the matter.
the stupidity of ***
and how many risks it had
but neither of us cared
we were too young to give a ****

Those lonesome nights when you lay awake
staring at the ceiling
wondering why the hell you couldn't get any shut eye
then you realize why you were awake
and then you definitely couldn't get any sleep
because anxiety is an endless abyss
that drags you deeper and deeper the more you think about it
and the walls are smooth
and the bed is empty
with nothing to grip
like him or like her
and its cold,
but you're the warmest you've ever been.

The death of our fathers and mothers
and brothers and sisters
and daughters and sons.
the first time you had to lay them to rest
gazing up at the cloudy sky,
marking how cliché it was
it could have rained any other day
but today was that day
making it seem like god or Jesus or Allah or whoever you believe in
actually gave a **** about them today
and this is the only time you've been thankful for rain.
how you look down at the open casket
and notice the fake little smirk the mortician left on their face
but you don't care that its fake
you're too busy being relieved
and thanking god that they had an unrelenting amount of decency
to at-least give the funeral goers
a sense of hope that they successfully passed on
and that they passed on in peace.

Those days when we were naive enough
to believe that we had no reason.
that life had nothing to take from us
that days turned into nights
and nights turned into days
and that was it
and there was nothing beautiful about it.
That we as a species are just a complex mess of life
that was born from the stars.

Then there was the day that we noticed
and gazed in awe at how beautiful we actually were.
We weren't just born from the stars,
we are the stars.
Those stars die and in their death
there comes even more life
and beauty
and me
and you
and us.
And then you realize
that you're just as big as the universe itself
because those things that make up the universe,
are what makes up you and I.

And in that final breath,
everything that happens to stars,
happens to you.
when you die,
you don't just die
you explode into an innumerable amount of pieces
and every one of those pieces
makes up an entire world,
someones world.
memories where things grow
and live
and survive
and love
and its so beautiful.

Death is beautiful.