This is how to watch the world end; this is how you stand on the edge of a precipice; this is how you take bone-quaking breaths; this is how you wring sweaty hands together; this is how you blink away tears over and over and over; remember to only cry until you can no longer see your own reflection and then stop; this is how to watch your world end; now pick a God and pray—any one will do, there are 5,000 of them out there; this is how you pray silently; this is how you pray without regret; don’t disrupt the prayers of others; this is how you pray loudly; this is how you pray with love; this is how you pray in general since your parents never took the three measly minutes out of their busy schedules that it would take to simply teach you how to pray; this is how to wait for a response; this is how to wait for an excuse; this is how to wait for an answer; this is how you stop praying when you receive no answer and the world—your world—continues to end; this is how you reflect; this is how you consider; this is how you determine that your life meant something to someone; when you are ready, turn away from the precipice; this is how you stop looking for a response, an excuse, and/or an answer; this is how you stop looking for comfort; this is how to stop looking for help; this is how you accept; why me?; always remember that it is incredibly selfish to believe that you’re alone in this end; now this is how you prepare; be sure to clean your heart beforehand; reach deep into your throat; avoid your teeth, tongue, and tonsils; squeeze your dirt-clad fingernails between your lungs, but whatever you do, do not puncture them, as suffocating feels worse than heartbreak, if you can believe that; wrap your fist around your heart; yank hard and quickly, but only once; always wait for each and every stringy vein to completely snap, break away, and curl up like stems of dehydrated dandelions, before finally extracting your heart; this is how you clean your heart; this is how you clean your aorta; this is how you clean your valves; this is how you clean your cavas; do remember that your heart still remains an organ, even outside the body, with flesh so fragile that it’ll rip into rigid jagged pieces with even the slightest hint of sorrow, so be careful and ensure your touches are as delicate as your very first and very last kiss; this is how you put your heart back, if you choose to; this is how to keep your heart outside of its cage, if you choose to; this is how you watch the world end, with your heart in hand; why now?; never assume that there was a plan in the first place; this is how to be alone; this is how to not be lonely; this is how to befriend the bristlecone pines; this is how you whisper the leafy branches your story; this is how you offer them a sliver of your heart, for they do not have their own; this is how you leave them be—they must also learn to let go of their stories during the end and theirs are far longer than yours; this is how to sit amongst the trees without bothering them; this is how you respect nature; this is how you respect yourself; always feel grateful for the trees, for they are the last witnesses to fall; always feel grateful for yourself, for you made it to the end; this is peace; now look up: the sun burns, the moon shines, the stars twinkle—they will outlast you and the trees—they will be the last ones to give up; this is how to give up; this is how you close your eyes; this is how you cry through shut eyelids; this is how you accept, one more time; this is how Death finds you—not just alive, but living; this is how to have a life worth having been alive; this is how to release that life; but what if I’m not ready?; you mean to say that after all you’ve been through, you aren’t ready to just let go?