What defines living?
Is it the flow of blood in your veins?
The rhythmic pumping of your heart?
The rise and fall of your lungs?
The mindless inhale, exhale, repeat?
What if wanting to live requires you to be hooked up to machines?
To have syringe after syringe of blood drawn from you?
To have waste siphoned out of you?
To be fed through a tube?
To have tubes down your throat, in your nose, through your sides?
To be tied down to the same spot, same position day in, day out?
To be sedated; to be never here nor there.
To want to say something or make a simple gesture but not having the strength to do it?
What if wanting to live requires you to die on so many levels?