Sitting here on the dock
Sun low on the lake
And I'm thinking of dying
The truth is
I shed my skin again this morning
Slipped out of my shadow
And sat around in my bones
And god I'm so happy
And I slip back into my skin
Ill fitting and worn as it is
I struggle with the many buttons and layers
And I think of dying
My heart beats heavy in my chest
But my bones are still rattling.
*this has nothing to do with actual dying or suicide, lest someone worry*
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.