Experiences.
They're a gift all on their own.
Spending time with friends, laughing and talking about stuff that doesn't even really matter to anyone but us.
Immersing myself in a world of roleplay, where I'm whoever I want.
Writing poems and stories, some just for myself, some for the world.
Even getting angry, or sad, or grieving is a gift.
For as long as you can feel, you know you're alive.
That's why experiences are such a gift.
Posted in response to the challenge Life gifts.
When someone is sick, we say they're on Death's doorstep.
But aren't we always?
People always act like we're so far away from death.
But really we're not.
Justice must be served.
The man who shot her must pay the price.
Doesn’t matter if he was scared or not, she didn’t deserve this.
Nobody does.
That man needs to be brought to justice.
Who am I?
I don’t even know anymore.
I’ve shed the person I once was in favor of a new one.
Yet, I’m still that person.
I’m both at once and neither.
So who am I?
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