A perfect cycle

I do remember how I die every time , I see myself alone waving goodbye to everybody from a distance, they’re always there when I’m set to leave, the same forgotten faces from past times, the smiles that i borrowed, the laughter that i stole , the words that i use as my own, the tears that i shed, of course, I know what they want, they want all of those things back, but I would never give them back, because I’m afraid that i might not live again.

They are like me in a way, or another , afraid to let me go. I know…I’ve been on the other side alongside with these silhouettes once, I was waving back to somebody that died one night and i know i longed for my spiritual possessions to be given back to me, but I could only stand still, waving back, letting it know by the end, that all those  stolen moments of before were ours , they were our only way of true belonging, they were ours altogether only because we had the courage to share and learn from each other. I felt humbleness dimming me out in that loud silence, awe struck to see that I’m theirs and they’re mine.

Dimmed and silent I wake up , opening my eyes, can barely see, can barely hear, can barely move, i feel life coursing through my body along with my first breath , I am alive once more, a newborn inside a proud man. I caught light and i shined again , proud of my strong voice , genuine laughter, the smile behind my tears…ours.

I finally learned to not fear death anymore, because when you’re not your body, you gain the knowledge of the infinite , a knowledge that can be brought back for another chance in life , a chance for someone like you with someone like me.

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