DEATH Poem: A Small Death, by Ely Lupe

Existence,
eternal or not,
does it ever stop?
Sometimes,

I can’t wait to get to that part.
You wanna go to heaven?
Of course! But
do you wanna die?

Kinda,
life’s nice on occasion,
but mostly, it sux here,
doesn’t it?

It’s too much
and it turns my brain to mush
like I or we weren’t designed
for this type of world.

Makes me wanna press pause on life.
Like, let me just log out real quick.
Turn it off, then turn it back on in a bit.
That’s why I like sleep.

It’s like micro dosing death.

A brief reprieve.
A release amidst the chaos.
A rest from the grind.
A respite from the world.

Until it happens for good,
and then who knows?

Hopefully permanent peace.
A prize at the end of the pain.
So heaven better exist.
If not, what’s the point of this?