life started when i almost ended it 

i was never afraid of death,
it felt like a home,
a place where i could finally rest.
i’ve been waiting for its call,
letting the days slip past,
feeling like a ghost in my own life.

i lost my patience once,
reached for it with trembling hands.
they say before you die,
your life flashes before your eyes—
a kaleidoscope of every joy and regret.
i guess they weren’t lying.

but as i stared into the void,
it stared back,
and in that silence,
a question rose:
what if life could be better
if i stayed to see it unfold?

so, i waited.
hours turned to days,
days to weeks,
weeks to years.
and somehow, i’m still here.

there was a time i thought
this story would end
before i could finish the sentence.
but here i am,
still writing,
still breathing.

i wonder sometimes—
did life begin when i almost left it?
was the brink of death
the birthplace of something new?

it wasn’t a revelation,
no light splitting the sky,
just the quiet realization
that maybe, just maybe,
there’s more to this waiting
than despair.

and so i wait,
not for death,
but for the life that might come next.