I would think much fonder of death
If I could look at it from another angle.
It stares at me head on
And I feel enchanted, almost
But no matter where I stand I can’t get around it
It stays two-dimensional.
The flatness of death is what scares me.
A void is cavernous, there is space to explore
But you cannot step through death, only to it.
And upon reaching it, compress
Flatten into a representation of yourself
A memory that no one else can pass through anymore.