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To breathe my last would be a curiosity.
Rather than an atrocity.
My opinion has changed since taking the pen.
Supposing I am more comfortable by then.
When I breathe my last, don't cry.
I am connecting to what watches beyond the eye.
That voice inside as I have grown.
The second nature I have always known.
The day I breathe my last, I'll be grateful.
So much of life is wasted on being jealous and hateful.
To relax into a carefree world of so what.
Remembering the blissful days that as adults we forgot.
As I breathe my last, it is not an ending.
In every way imaginable I am ascending.
There are moments I wish were deleted.
But every breath brings me closer to being completed.
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