Home Is Where the Bodies Are

by Jeneva Rose

Death reminds us that life isn’t infinite and that one day, our time will come too.

It’s odd. Some people never see it coming, others have a countdown, and I don’t know which is worse.

She told me flowers reminded her of life—beautiful, delicate, and short-lived.

There’s not many things you can count on in life, but that . . . is one thing you can count on. It will rise and it will fall—no matter what. Don’t matter if you’re sick or sad. Don’t matter if there is war or there is peace. Don’t matter if you see it or you don’t. That sun. You can count on it.

When you shine brighter than the sun, it’s hard for others to look at you, so you have two choices: look and be blinded with resentment or look away.

Even if I could dig a hole deep enough to reach the center of the earth, I still couldn’t bury this. I always tried to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, it all went wrong. You don’t believe in monsters until you’re living with one . . . and even then, you don’t believe until you’re looking in the mirror, realizing you’ve become one of them.

Let me change quick . . . I wish that applied to more than just outfits.

Some things you have to wear, like guilt and grief and old jackets left behind by loved ones who’ve passed.

I spent my whole life being nervous up until I realized that life happens in between the beats of our own heart, and if it thumps too fast, there’s no space for us to live.