You never truly live, unless you die a little

You never truly live unless you die a little
So the story goes
I met death a few times
She’s mean and kind
And beautiful all in different ways
She denied me comfort many times because she knew I didn’t really mean it
we spoke and she wanted me to know I wasn’t giving her permission
Not really
And she needs permission
She told me I wasn’t ready
Life had things for me to do and this was just a phase
A test if you will
Of my will over her will
And had I been weaker
Well, maybe perhaps then…
I didn’t want to listen
Because  her hands were so soft
And her bussom so comforting that I could not help myself
That melody she sings
No one you’ve ever heard could sing as sweet
I think that’s how she calls for the ones who’s time has come

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