Living is often like drowning, and sleeping like flying,
So bridges and tall buildings always tempt me.
When I talk about death I feel brave.
I've always hated how recognition can so easily turn into pride.
They say pride comes before the fall,
But I believe that various kinds of self-centeredness are the origin of all unholy descents.
I remind myself that I shouldn't take my life because I didn't give it,
And my heart continues to beat on its own.
Blood doesn't stain crimson red,
It darkens and crusts on the skin.
Everything that is dead becomes only a memory,
Then it disintegrates and washes away, eventually becoming nothing.
I can’t remember anything from before I had the ability to reason,
So when did I come alive?
I wonder if all people valued beauty,
Would there be peace?
Because I sometimes wonder whether Neil Armstrong meant to say what he did as took his first step on the moon.
I think trying is as valuable as doing,
But justification is a dangerous tool.
I am cautious of failure and success;
But count this as my eulogy
A list of things that I am going to say before my untimely death.
*I recognized the world for the canvas it was and I didn't waste my life.
My dreams were my motivation,
And they were fueled by those that underestimated me
I walked streets day and night and prayed that I would somehow run into the girl of my dreams,
and when I finally found my missing rib I looked at her like she was a piece of art that I just couldn't keep my eyes off of.
I suffered and I found its nectar bitter-sweet.
I didn't get the best of life, but then I made the best of life.
I never stopped caring,
my love for the unlovable made me daring.
I trusted too easily so I was always broken.
I always found things to love, but they never loved me,
But despite it, I still loved, hard, even though it hurt me.
I couldn't comfort because I had never been comforted.
After a lifetime of battling myself, I finally took off my crown of thorns.
I didn't let the past get the best of me,
I gave the future all of me.
I hated animosity,
War was despicable to me,
And I always preached peace.
I prayed constantly that my efforts would not be in vain.
I never actually could stop sinning,  but despite my ugly sins, I never stopped straining.
I was not perfect, but I did the best I could.
I never ceased to hear the music.
I still played, even when I felt like I was playing solo, I still played my part in this symphony of life.
My eyes were aimed at the director, and we played through the storm,
We played even when all hell was against us,
We played, and played, and played
Until eternity came through.....

They told me I didn't know what love was.

Every stinging syllable of that salient statement still splits me open as if
hit by a throwing knife.
How could I not know something that has both affected my life and
directed my strife?
Yet they were kind of right.

I did not know what love 'was',
I only knew what love 'is'.
Love is,
Persistent.
Both consistent and inconsistent, even
Resistant.

But most importantly, love is existent.

As in the time I practiced kissing the basketball.
Forget the swish, my only wish was for that kiss to be
real.

And I fantasized that She'd be my blue sky.
We'd kiss on the 4th of July,
while the fireworks fly by.
Love was with this girl in my mind.

You see, I'm a Romanticist.
I choose not to live in a reality where logic tells me
affection only leads to an *******.
Or a mathematical algorithm can find our
connection.
No, this is the wrong
direction.  

Still, they think I'm insane.
For romance has been too romanticized,  
into something we cannot theorize.
We must all be square,
and think square.
But when I look into the sky,
I can still see her eyes, desperately waiting,
until the 4th of July.