The plush embrace fills the air, Its softness comforting, My cute little bear.

With its eyes immense glare And meager size, The plush embrace fills the air.

Its brown skin quite bare, With the sweetest little smile, My cute little bear.

The tiny nose, a bit swell, “I love you” engraved, The plush embrace fills the air.

The little shirt and pants it wears, With a vast pink heart on its chest. My cute little bear.

We are a pair! It fills me with and joy and care! The plush embrace fills the air. My cute little bear.

Desiring a person, oh, what a plight, Behind a curtain, I wait like a peasant. Incessant passion keeps me up at night, For eyes of blue, their depths hold a lesson.

With a voice so broken, they’ve stolen my breath, Yet the weight of this longing feels like a curse. I’ll rise above this, embrace the sweet death, And find my own peace, for better or worse.

It began again. That feeling of relaxation. And drowsiness.

As I begin to feel all the stress slip away. Along with my eyes. Struggling to stay open. Them wiggling and jolting. To open and close Consistently.

As I try to stay awake. Despite my failings. My body begins to shut down. Paying extra attention To the comfiness. Of my snug bed. and comfy pillows.

I begin to think of the day. All the decisions made. The mistakes, Along with the good.

As I count to 10. In my little mind. Before it happens.

My thoughts begin to drift away. Weightless as soft whispers.

The world fades to shadows.

As I glide down. Gently. Sinking into the realm of sweet slumber.

“Oh my, it’s time, my dear.” “Please, Reaper, I don’t want to go! Not yet, oh please, please, sir!” “It’s time to go.”

Death knows no specific date, Nor time, nor hour—

Life is fragile, It wavers and falters at every turn.

Live your life until the Reaper calls, Explore the world, Touch the grass and the trees, Play with the animals, Taste, smell, hear, see as much as you can. Make loved ones along the way.

Embrace the Grim Reaper, For when he comes, It’s time to go.

Am I rushing too soon? Or is it the perfect time?

Oh, how I long for a partner, One who will support me, No matter what,

Through the happy times, And the dark.

They say, “You’re too young for that”

Ironic, coming from those whose relationships have fallen.

I believe love happens when one’s ready,

No matter the age.

I will continue longing for a partner, Until I have met him.

We shall deal with the glares and comments together,

As we grow,

And build on love, trust, and understanding,

Till death do us apart.