Sometimes it’s the whisper of an ex-lover,
the one you don’t quite believe.
Then it’s the brick that slides into the pit of your stomach
when you realize they actually did leave.
Death is the great motivator, to some.
It is the great incapacitator, to others.
We are motivated by its ever creeping slowly towards us to live a better life,
a full life a happy life.
Or, it incapacitates us with fear unable to let go, let loose.
All because of the looming fear of death.
Sometimes it falls slowly and softly, like a feather in our sleep.
Her last breath softly becomes silent.
Other times it slams into us without a second’s notice, the wall of inevitability,
taking us instantly.
The car crash.
And there are those times that it creeps into us.
The deadly vine that intertwines our organs
and our cells
View original post 151 more words