"My perspective is changed.
I don't
think i can come back from that.
I don't
think i can live the way I did before.
Not thinking
about all the terrible things that can happen.
Not knowing
what it feels like
to have a part of me ripped out.
How do I come back from this?"
"This is a poem by Henry Scott Holland.
'Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner.
All is well."
You Are Not Here
by Samantha Schutz
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