Hard to let go, Harder to accept
Death has no protocol. It does not ask whether you are ready to go or not, it will not inquire if they are still things you need to do. It does not make appointments and just shows up out of the blue like pimples on the forehead before a big date. Death has no protocol; it does not ask those closest to the person it has come for if he or she is still needed. Just like a thief in the dark night, it snatches and disappears. All that is left are the memories. As of late sleep has been playing hard to get like a girl from uukwaluudhi, its getting annoying, to the point where going to bed is not worth looking forward to anymore, I haven’t turned in my bed like this since 2011. An image haunts my thoughts, the last image I saw of my brother. He usually slept with his mouth open and that's how he looked, like he was sleeping (I’m told everyone looks like they are sleeping). He looked like he normally looks in his slumber, except for the dent in his forehead, a result of the autop