MEMENTO MORI
I could rhyme about puppies and kittens, make your heart soar with sweet fluff.
But I had to put down the spaniel I loved too many years ago, and fake purring just makes my eyes roll.
Blind hope is a luxury only the very young should indulge in. The rest of us know all too well what is coming.
Unless we’re haunted by dementia.
So no problem, right?
I wonder what the Grim Reaper thinks of that.
Not much, I suspect.
When was the last time you let someone see the real you – the jagged, unfiltered you, the rawness you fear might shatter under someone else’s gaze yet painfully crave to offer?
Don’t wait too long.
No time left for hollow friendships.
Close your eyes. Let go now.
I will catch you.
On second thought, don’t.
That fleeting moment has come and gone.
Memento mori.
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