Dear Death,

I hope you're not so bad.

I hear you shine bright,

Like colored lights,

“Head towards the light.”

 

I hear you're an endless dark,

Shadows in shadows.

 

I hear you're nothing,

Black

and

blank.

 

I hope you don’t think I’m off

For writing to you--

I’m just

Planning for our meeting.

 

When I think about you,

You make me feel the weight of my body,

A solid, physical mass

Of bones, sinew, and muscle--

An animal.

 

When I think about you,

I can’t help but imagine

My body laying flat,

Muscles cold and stiff,

Like some old, tough steak.

 

 

 

I hope you're not so bad.