dead: not dying

My mother says that
I look like death when I am sleeping
like a corpse all still and cold
and I smile and nod because she does not know that sometimes I wish I were dead (not sleeping)
It is strange that although I am scared of many things
spiders heights falling pain
I am not afraid of death
oh, I am afraid of dying
but not death. dying is a world of hurt and pain but still stuck in this world; worldception. death is welcoming and adventurous and new and an entirely different world.
death should be warm and fuzzy and beautiful and grateful but it has been sullied by attachments and chains, chainsaws and bloody ideas
why do we mourn for the beloved who have departed? it is a selfish kind of mourning.
I wish to embrace death. I wish to be dead. but I do not wish to die. I would like the decision of when how where to be taken out of my hands and wake up one day and say, "oh, is that really what I look like when I sleep?" and then dead, not asleep.
but for now as God refuses to give my soul leave, I must settle for asleep, not dead.
merely asleep.