I've never hated the idea of death nor the knowledge that we one day will die. But what I do hate is the end result of death not the 6 feet under or being painted up to look like you still have life in you as you lay in a box. Nor do I dislike the wearing of black or the period of mourning...
But what I do hate, and what is never easy for me is all the time that passes. Time is the worst thing about death. It's the worst thing about being alive and having the ones you care about rotting away in a box.
Time is sad, scary and dangerous. Time erases the good things makes memory's black turns the pictures in your head into empty, faceless, and soundless images.

Death is what makes me trace the lines at night, makes me root around in my mind with a flashlight never finding anything. Always wondering if the voices are real and just how deep were all the colors...

Death is that thing that knocks on all of our doors sometimes it knocks loudly and sometimes it comes in quietly... But it comes just the same...

Maybe we ask for it to come? Maybe it's all just a surprise...

But at the end of the day the result is the same sad people wondering why...

Why good people have to get sick and die,

Why do people have to sit alone heart broken...

Why is it people decided when they should go,

Why do they not care that when there blood runs cold our hearts will turn black...

I'm tired of death but I'm more scared that I won't remember.

I don't want to forget anymore.

Nameless faces and quiet voices

It's not good anymore

Dear lord if I die....

Dear lord when I die, don't let them forget....

Stale || Fresh

Leftovers...

A life time isn't aslong as it use to be - August 24, 2006
Heart bleeding in the end - May 05, 2006
Heads spinning - March 17, 2006
Kind of interesting - February 23, 2006
ten years in the making - February 19, 2006