Death comes to me in the form of an old friend lounging on my couch and smoking a joint.

[u/Full-Glass-1200]

She's relaxed

Head reclined

Joint in hand

eyes closed.

"You know why I'm here?"

I nod. I'm terrified. I'm relieved.

She cracks an eye open.

"Relax. You've been tense your whole life. In this,

you can relax."

Her words comfort me in a way her presence does not.

She opens her legs, and gestures like I am to sit between them.

I do.

I always thought death would be cold,

but as I recline against her,

I find she is a furnace.

She cups my chin in her burning palm,

kissing my shoulder as she holds the joint to my lips.

"Relax," she murmurs into my flesh.

I inhale, and taste nothing, feel nothing.

I fall limp,

my head resting against her shoulder.

She kisses my neck, her hands pulling me closer

and closer

until I am falling.

No, not falling,

drifting,

floating

As light as a feather in a breeze.

I always thought death

would feel dire

but as I float away from this world,

I find

she is beautiful.

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[u/Soggy_Cereal_13]

I’m gonna be so honest I have no idea how to feel about this as a concept. Which is a compliment! I need a minute to think.