August 31, 2016

The Benefits of Dying. {Poem}

Redd Angelo/Unsplash

She’s keen on living 
She knew she had to die before truly being able to live
She knew that darkness was inevitable
But she’s also aware that without it,
There’d be no light
So, she died.

She died to the past that only existed in her own mind,
The past that was kept solely alive by her ego.
She died to thoughts,
Plenty of thoughts,
That served her no more.

She died to her old self,
Old attachments,
Old opinions.
She died to memories that kept her imprisoned,

She died to sadness.

Like quicksand,
She sank in that sadness that kept pulling her down.

She died to the life she thought was right,
And along with it,
the life she perceived as wrong was buried
She diminished right and wrong,
Beautiful and ugly,
Good and bad.

She died to words that only agitated her mind,
And lost.

She died to that mind.
Just like the north pole of one magnet attracts the south pole of a second magnet,
The mind attracts negativity.

She died to its tricks and games,
Realizing its very nature is to grasp and cling.

And so, she died to grasping,
She died to clinging.

Just like rivers need to flow,
Thoughts, too, need to flow,
So she let them be,
Without holding onto them.

Most beautifully,
She died to what people think of her,
Along with what they expect from her
She died to truth,
Because the truth is,
Who can ever tell what’s true and what’s not?

She died to questions that will never quench her thirst,
And died to answers that were mere facts.

She died to hatred and instead,
resurrected love,
She died to blaming and figured there was no one to blame,
But herself.

She died to the “her.”
That “I” kept her entangled in the web of misery
And the only way to eliminate that misery,
Was to die first.

So, she died.
And when she did,
She lived.

Death has opened her eyes to freedom,

It has opened her eyes to life
And to the fact that death,
Never was
And never will be physical.

Death is now,
When we’re alive.

Death is life and
Life isn’t about what we do,
How much we earn,
How hard we laugh.

Life is about how many times we die,
And if there is one thing she is sure of now,
Is that the more we die,
The deeper we live.


Author: Elyane Youssef

Image: Redd Angelo/Unsplash

Editor: Caitlin Oriel

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