Vacillating

time heals all wounds and she will soon be forgotten, thus, what was her purpose …

what will happen to me when my oxygen runs out

who will be there to clear my final doubt

who will stand in awe and cry at my absence

who will be the tormentor and laugh at my ignorance

who will encourage those that I left behind

who will be the one to give them peace at mind

who will receive the things that I adore

who will play with the dolls I don’t play anymore

who will live in my room and eat from my plate

who will take my place and take my fate

who will be the one sitting next to him

who will see all the things I’ve seen

who will remember me

who will forget

who will be proper mourners once I’m dead