29 October, 2015

A Correspondence with Death: From

The day of death is
everyone’s
There is always someone’s lament
Every day
Even the horrifying can suffer

I do not trust you humans
in masks
made out of each other’s skin
It is always of no matter
if I find you smiling or not

I am your last kiss
I will remember it as all the others’
Every day I am someone’s
I am the reason you speak
to one another

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