I have this reoccurring dream that I am in heaven.
When I arrive, I am sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake.
I will mention that the lake is clear.
In the lake, I can see Earth, and everyone I’ve ever met.

I see my mother, washing dishes in the sink, her face blank as a stone, in shock about what had happened, and how she didn’t do enough to have prevented it.
I see my father, watching television, but he seems to be looking through the television at something faraway, something to save him, because he didn’t think he’d need saving.
I see my brother, playing with his Legos, but his arms fall limp and lifeless with no imagination to bring them to life, and the Legos seem to be in black-and-white to him now, the colors drained like his energy.
I see my best-friend, doing homework, while angrily fiddling with her pencil, then biting the end, realizing she is going to have to do her laughing and crying on her own.
I see my crush, staring at a pixel on his computer screen, his mouth open in speechlessness of what he’d let go, and how he now understands the meaning of “life is short.”
I see the “it” group at school; now realizing everything they usually discuss would be too minuscule and stupid to even bring up now, like a gnat in the silence.
I see the people from church, holding candles and praying, asking God why he had to choose me, and not some other kid, and then the surprise on their faces after they thought those words, thinking it couldn’t have been them that had said that.
I see my teachers, sitting in their empty classrooms at the end of the day, loosening their ties and slipping off their high-heels, pausing to grieve over what I could have become, and what I could have changed in the world.

I see time passing.
I see people changing.
I see worlds evolving.

I see life,
And how it never really ends,
But keeps starting over,
Like a favorite song on repeat.