With my first breath, I become
to wander till the last
to be and be and be some more
time slow at first, soon fast

And with his last draw of this world's breath
an orphan I become
His time well spent I take my place
to hear my distant drum

Dark dying thoughts once swallowed me
like harpies chattering on the wind
But with the truth of death fresh at my door
I greet him as a friend

Together we shall walk and talk
and leaves and stars will fall
I will see the patterns unfold
once hidden revealing all

Theres a tear in my heart
And it hurts like hell
I don't want you to see me
But the pain is real

I'm afraid for when you leave
Because I already feel disconnected
You ask me what I need
But nothing you say can help this

I want to stay in the moment
To feel through this together
I'm tracing the lines in your face
Because you are all I want to remember

There's no easy
Way of asking
I already know
What he's going
To say but
Maybe he just
Needs to say it
So I ask
Him anyway
"Are you scared?"

Only smiles
And a patience
I've never seen
In the face  
Of someone
Who knows
That they
Are dying

We are all falling,
Life is a drop towards ending,
You dear reader,
And I,
And we can no more delay or adjust the
Speed of our descent
Than flap our arms right now
And take flight towards the clouds,

And though we may aspire to the heavens
The only route out of life
Is down,
Drawn by that terrifying gravity
That draws us ever faster
As the years pass,
Accelerating steadily through childhood
Adolescence and young adulthood,

Streaking past the unknown
Mid point of our lives
But suddenly aware we have less to go
Than we can know and less to get
Than we already had,
And that as we hurtle out of middle age
Puts a scale to our brief existence,
And a reasonable sight of our end,

But these calculations are of no use,
As our muscles sag and our hair thins,
Skin wrinkled and transluscent,
Eyesight dimmed,
Because we are tripped
By illness or literally in a fall
And thus we reach beginning of the final bend,
Our flailing stops

As we reach our journey's end

The worst part of a funeral is not the sombre faces,
Nor the awkwardness of people
Who know not how to be at such a time,
It's not the heavy sense of sadness and loss
That permeates the air or the brash jollity of those
Who over compensate,

It's not standing to eulogise my friend
In so few minutes
When he was so vibrant and ALIVE,
Nor seeing in my mind's eye his face
As he lay recumbent in the coffin's cushioned dark
And airless embrace,

Not the sobs that came in public as I sat
After giving his farewell my all,
My first eulogy and sadly probably not my last,
No, the worst, the most awful thing was the wet thump
Of roses red falling on his coffin lid,
I tossed a handful of dry earth,

It sounded better,
Seemed more fitting,
An example followed by others,
A better more respecttful
And indeed final fare well,
Rest now Damien

Rest in peace
I will see you soon enough

the first time i became acquainted with death, i was 24 years old. i didn’t quite understand my thoughts back then and it scared me back into submission.

the second time i became acquainted with death, i was 32 years old. it was today. i was driving around a curve and a large white van zoomed around the same curb on the opposite side, halfway in my lane. the van was so close i could make out what the driver looked like; late 20’s, golden blonde hair that was layered, swept back, and landed on his shoulders. he also had a goatee of the same color. i had no reaction; only this deep sense of calmness that it was going to be all over. in that split second, i welcomed death as if i had known It my whole life but It was lost to me long ago. in my mind’s eye, i see myself reaching out - to what? i do not know. i only knew, deep down, that if i kept reaching, death would take care of me. i see myself sighing with tear stained cheeks. finally, finally it would all be over. no more infinite, uncontrollable sadness. no more back breaking work to simply be able to exist in reality. no more disappointments, to myself and others, because i cannot control these feelings when i, “have no reason to be sad. no reason to be depressed.” the peace i felt in that moment formed a sob of relief in my throat. and the ****** up thing is that my mother…my beautiful, exceptional, beloved mother, was in the car with me. that ****** up thing is me, i realize, coming back to the present. i am ****** up and don’t deserve to be anyone’s daughter or aunt or sister or friend. i am a sick, twisted thing. and i am scared for others for the first time in my life.

then the van quickly swerves back into its lane and i am alive.