Before I Died

Every desperate breath I take does nothing to sustain the ache in my chest, the desire for air, the hope for life. My lungs seem to collapse in on themselves, rejecting the oxygen I’ve offered. My mind is turning blue. I’ve been depleted of strength to go on. My body is failing. My legs have gone weak and I sink to the floor. I cannot hold up my head and my arms fall dully to my side. I am a mind trapped in a stiff cold body. Soon there is nothing to offer lungs, no way for me to fill them with life. I am still and quiet, as the dirt falls around my cage and the men above mumble prayers.

I know soon I will be eaten away, this skin will be lost, I will be a fragment of what it once was. For now, I will rest in the quiet, in the peace. My life has led up to this. Stillness, Solitude. What’s strange is, it doesn’t feel much different than before I died.