Literature
Death isn't a fresh perspective
I saw my mother
swallowing something small
when I was just a child
The anguish in her eyes
faded, as she told me
it was just a
tic-tac,
with a little extra kick
maybe years later,
that's how I convinced
myself
to swallow fifteen,
thinking it'd
give me a fresh perspective;
in the end,
my breath reeked
of death
instead of mint.