A Complaint on Dying

Together we die,
The little death,
It makes us shake and moan.
I held mine off,
Long as I could,
So that we could die as one.

Your breath beats
My sweat covered brow,
Your heart beats ever so fast.
You did your best
To catch up to me,
So that you would not die last.

I did my part
To help you die
At the moment that I would.
I used my hands,
My lips, my tongue.
I did everything I could.

Still I feel
It’s just not fair,
After all that I have done.
You get to die
Two or three times,
And I die just the one.

-23 Jan 1996

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.