Obsessed with my demise. My last breath represents the state of being content with death. The threat of death will bring the most sacreligious to their knees. Praying on a miracle to an imaginary power so their words fall on deaf ears. Does god listen to non-believers and believers? I guess not because we all die. Too many young souls passed on. Life gave my friend a casket for his 18th birthday…what a hell of a present. The tears of his mother fall onto the his lifeless face at the funeral. The preacher continues to say that he’s with god now but his mother’s pain is still present. She’ll rather have her son with her than with the almighty. I sit in the last row to hide my helpless state of emotions. I leave the church in shock…….my legs continue to move as I walk but I’m completely numb. People see me stare into the distance….they probably think I’m staring at nothing….but if only they could see what I saw. I saw memories of me and my best friend growing up together. Now those joyful memories quickly became empty memories represented by darkness. What’s the point of a memory if you can’t reminisce about the past with the person you shared it with. Depression soon becomes my new best friend and every night I read my vows to alcohol. Torn between the desire to live forever and the reality of death. I lean more towards death because the pain is too much to bare. I can barely wear a smile, but somehow I still can produce the fallacy of happiness so those who love me won’t worry about my demise.