What if I didn’t believe in death?
No, seriously hear me out.
What would happen if we didn’t give death the credence and intensity with which we let it fill our lives?
I think about death all the time
Not just in terms of my belief in ghosts (I know what I saw)
But in the many ways it looms over me and my life
Many people I have grown up to know are now gone
Even now relatives are on the brink, wherever that is
And I think about my own death
Even though, in all likelihood, it is no longer near me.
There is such fear in it
The prospect of nothing, of losing myself
And then I wonder what am I
Am I an I
If I think am I real?
But one day I thought
What if death wasn’t real
At least not in the immensity that we perceive it.
If we paid it the least amount of attention possible
Would death have as much power?
Who would then use death as a punishment or as a way to control
Who would live in fear?
And if there is no inherent fear, who then would choose to hate?
I wonder if I didn’t believe in death
I would do more
I would be kinder to myself
I would only acknowledge life as the one truth of my being
Maybe I’m not real
But if death takes hold of me
I acknowledge that someday I will be nothing
And according to what we know about the Universe
There can’t be nothing.
So what if I didn’t believe in death?
Maybe I’ll see a future with no end
Only beginnings.
~~~~~~~
©Abigail Siegel, 2020
