despite what you may think,

no one compares to you.

to your opinions.

to your voice.

to your mind.

i miss you.

It isn’t angels and clouds.

You don’t walk through walls,

and you don’t burn in hell.

I know. I’ve been there.

It was a bursting light

that drew me in,

to a place that has no name.

A place far beyond what is and isn’t real,

and far too strange to be called fantasy.

It is a place where colors aren’t colors,

where squares are round,

triangles are straight lines.

Heaven is black,

hell is white,

and your feet never touch the ground.

You are running and walking,

but never moving,

and this place passes you by.

I call it the waiting room to either or.

This place is your time and space,

where sound is dead, like you.

No friendly faces to greet you.

You cannot hear your thoughts,

cannot hear your screams,

cannot feel your tears,

until finally pulled back;

back through the bursting light.

You feel yourself drowning in your sweat,

your heart thunders without mercy,

and you know when you die again,

it isn’t all angels and clouds.

(This is based on a true experience I had when I died for 8 seconds, years ago.)