Dying to reach a purgatory much more suitable for a heavenly life in hell.
They say those who deserve it are condemned to hell,and those who await one may pass a heaven’s gate.
I found this untrue, for my heaven is you,
and hell is only my awaiting the day I can have the heaven I lifelessly await.
There is no life until death,
for life is composed of the joy and understanding of its own confusion in itself.
I am not joyful,
nor do I understand.
Does this mean I am dead?
But I understand dying, and the joyous bliss of it.
Am I alive?
If so, what is it to die, and what is it like?
Dying to live is like living to die, neither in favor of what it really means, whatever its meaning may come to be.
Oh how I wish to die, in hopes of meeting your embrace beyond the gate.
Is it possible to die if you haven’t lived?
Is it okay to live but never die?
This isn’t life, but is a purgatory.
But I haven’t died to view my own life replay passively, so it can’t be so.
Perhaps I was never even born,
and merely a light watching the darkness below me.
Or maybe I have lived, but just refuse to admit to it.
Perhaps if I had once lived, I died for a reason,
which is to forget.
I’m not alive,
just existing and waiting to live again,
only to die once again
for real.
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