And yet, I still welcome death.

And yet, I still welcome death.

My sorrows, pains, yearnings still reside deep within me and yet,

I still welcome death.

Unsaid words try to claw their way out of my forcibly zipped mouth and yet,

I still welcome death.

My bruises are no longer a scar on my future but rather, a mark from my past.

And yet,

I still welcome death.

My conscience has matured and my mind reels at the recalling of their actions but yet,

I still welcome death.

Stuck between life and death, grief and acceptance, worry and relief I wonder...

Do I still welcome death?