Death is often cruel.
Death has a way of stealing things precious,
denying you a certain satisfaction.
But Life is crueler.
Life gives you hope, but never offers catharsis,
crushing you under petty detractions.
I am left to wonder the choice: Is it worse to be left alone,
to have survived the perils of false adoration?
Or be rejected by someone who truly sees you and knows you,
because you were plagued by wary (in)action?
Discarded Recollections 
I was lost between these lines… a hard reality.. once again well done
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This was in my drafts for a while. It’s so hard not to sound like a angsty teenager at times, overinflating issues to the scales of “Life and Death!”, but that voice is important, too.
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