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#lifemetaphors
_Opening line_ — Walking from a dream to death, Waking from death to a dream — The dream that stole my last breath: Sleep and life stitched by the same seam. I am not a beard, yet so much Of living has been taken by the chin; Dragged through seasons shaping me, trimming me down by force than by vision. Trying to step ahead of everything — I am a shoebox tied with old string, Wrapped in a cloudy sheet of memories. Yesterday's tears gather like unpaid debts, When even the smallest step feels so _stiff_. Breath is the essence of life, But our breath is always leaving us; Know we’re only guests in these bodies, Passing through the hours as the hours do Their grieving — and every inhale reminds Us that its last exhale is already pre-planned. And so, waking from death to a dream, I breathe knowing each breath is a door Quietly closing behind me — I keep walking, Pushing forward, opening the next door Even as the last one fades. _Closing line._
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Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 2:42 AM UTC
Dreams, Death, and the Next Door Forward