I sometimes wonder
If I am dead
The question is
Is this heaven
Or hell?
What if
This is the best it gets
Or is it the other way around?
No one
Is ever truly always happy
What if we all used to be stars
And we exploded
And this is where we go?
Our bodies
Are just a home for our souls
Is this heaven?
Is this hell?
Or maybe that's how luck works
What if
The world decides if this very same planet
Will be good or bad for you?
Maybe
We just exist?
Maybe there isn't
Always a reward or punishment?
Maybe
We never truly die?
Or actually
Or are were always dead?
What is dead?
Who knows
Maybe it's me
Probably not the average thought of a middle schooler in class
...
But my head enjoys torturing me
(This note was written by your ceiling that we never look at anymore. I like to look at the ceiling if any place I am. I think they feel ignored.)