Calm down.
Calm down.
I am calm. I am calm.
My blood is still, flowing beneath my skin.
No wounds, no scratches, just clear skin.
It's just me.
It was strangely frightening.
I was used to cruelty.
I was used to heavy stares and hurtful words.
I was used to being treated like someone who carries their sins on their forehead.
Kindness was something else.
Something so soft it pierced my chest like a slow dagger.
Death sat beside me like an old friend who knew me.
Kindness can be more deadly than hate.
Death drew closer, as if interested in talking.
Death doesn't pretend.
He doesn't pretend to understand you.
He doesn't pat you on the shoulder to comfort you.
He just stands there, silent, waiting.
I gazed at Death as if for a moment I considered reaching out to him.
But I didn't.
Death, despite its long silence.
Sometimes seemed much kinder than a life that forces you to confront yourself every day.
I'm coming, I told him.
Wait for me, I'm coming.
I'm coming.
Blood, bat, blood, fire, blood, a long day, blood.
I'm calm.
I'm approaching.
I'm approaching.